Nevermore: A Maximum Ride Novel
by ICouldBeNudge
Summary: Post-ANGEL. The Gasman is mourning. Jeb, Dr. Martinez and Ella are missing. The Doomsday Group is rising in power. No one on earth is safe. No one can be trusted. The world is losing hope. Human life itself is at stake. There is no room for failure. And the fate of the planet rests on the shoulders of one teenage mutant bird-girl. Can Maximum Ride save the world? T for violence.
1. Situation

A.N. Hey everyone! ICBN here! So, personally I think that James Patterson is giving Max, Fang, Angel, Iggy, Ella, and Dylan WAY TOO MUCH ATTENTION! What about Nudge and Gazzy? The two best characters in the series?

I was also wondering why there weren't any Gazzy stories out there about how he felt following the end of the book ANGEL? So I decided to give the poor boy his place in FanFiction.

**Chapter 1: Situation**

Gazzy POV

I was sitting in a sea of plastic explosives. A timer was ticking ominously. I was filled with a sense of dread at the impending doom, but also with delight. I mean, real plastic explosives at my fingertips? I kept pleading with Angel to let me take some with us, but being the logical little sister, she refused. Finally, Max and Dylan burst in. Max looked shocked and terrified. That scared me. Max rarely, if ever, lets fear show on her face. Only when things were about to get bad. Then Fang showed up, surprise, surprise.

We discussed the situation, as the timer kept ticking. Tons of C-4, plastic explosive, nerve gas, sewers that spread out all over Europe… this couldn't end well. Fang asked, "Is there any way to dismantle the timers?"

I saw where he was going with this. "They're complicated," I replied, trying to act brave, "but I've seen them before. I wish Iggy were here." If my best friend and partner in crime were at the scene, there would be NOTHING to worry about.

"What does that timer say?" Max questioned anxiously.

I looked at gulped the answer, "Seven minutes."

"Is that enough time for you to kill it?" Fang wondered.

"I think so," I mused. "I can probably do it in about five minutes. I've always wanted to work on one of these." I absentmindedly ran mine fingers along the red, blue, and yellow wires that crisscrossed on the concrete sewer floor. I glanced up to see Max's face. She was in her leader moment, carefully considering her options, which I knew full well: 1) I stay and try to disable the bomb and possibly save the lives of thousands of people. The risk? I might die if I don't get out in time. 2) Max gets Angel and me out of here and we hit the skies to leave the rest of the people to die.

To be honest, neither option sounded good. Max closed her eyes. This must be hard for her, what with her whole saving-the-world-mission and all.

To my surprise, Angel spoke up, "I think Gazzy should stay. And I'll stay with him, to help. I'm not as good as Iggy, but I can do whatever he tells me to." I savored that moment. Angel was actually going to do whatever I tell her to? Sweet! I returned to reality. Personally, I thought I should stay and try to fix the problem, but I let the older kids make the decision.

Fang was saying, "I'll stay. With three of us, we'll make it work." He turned to look at me, and we met each other's eyes. It was a moment of complete understanding. Fang didn't treat me like his kid brother at that time, more like a man, an equal… He believed in me. That rocked.

Max and Dylan took off to try to evacuate the plaza in case… something went wrong. Wrong would be… bad. Enough chit-chat! Get to work, Gazzy! Think happy thoughts! Wonderful, fiery, bomb-inclusive happy thoughts…

A.N. So, be honest, what did you think? I actually have about two more chapters already typed, and they're on their way! *hint*hint*

Until next time, then! :) Over and out!


	2. Countdown

A.N. Hi! ICBN here! What really happened in the sewers after Max and Dylan left? Here it is!

**Chapter 2: Countdown**

"_I think so," I mused. "I can probably do it in about five minutes. I've always wanted to work on one of these." I absentmindedly ran mine fingers along the red, blue, and yellow wires that crisscrossed on the concrete sewer floor._

_Angel spoke up, "I think Gazzy should stay. And I'll stay with him, to help. I'm not as good as Iggy, but I can do whatever he tells me to."_

_Fang was saying, "I'll stay. With three of us, we'll make it work." He turned to look at me, and we met each other's eyes. It was a moment of complete understanding. Fang didn't treat me like his kid brother at that time, more like a man, an equal…_

***6 minutes left***

I began to carefully scoot over to the timer. "Angel!" I ordered, suddenly in nine-year-old-boy-saving-the-world-mode. "Take that yellow wire and begin stripping the rubber off. Fang, can you CAREFULLY move this block of explosive so I can get a good angle at the timer?" I began twisting, pulling, and stripping wires, and even bit wires in half with my teeth a few times. Progress was being made.

***5 minutes left***

Angel was busy stripping wires, Fang was slowly pulling tons of wires out of the explosives, and I was examining the interior of the timer box (which is the size of a huge concert speaker). It was so quiet, that even in the darkest hour of my short life, I couldn't resist a little toot. We chuckled, and put more energy into the work. I filled Fang in on our experience with the DGers (A.N. That's the Doomsday Group, by the way).

***4 minutes left***

I happened to glance at the timer's count, and my heart sped up. Four minutes left… Could I do it? We were still working hard, but a song suddenly popped into my head, one that I had heard Nudge sing perfectly in her bedroom at night sometimes. I began to flawlessly mimic Madonna's "Four Minutes"…

"_Time is waiting_

_We only got four minutes to save the world!_

_No hesitating_

_Grab a boy, grab a girl-"_

"Gazzy!" I heard Angel shout at me, giggling, "This isn't the right place or the right time!"

"Well, dear sister," I retorted, "when will I ever have this opportunity? When will we ever again in our lives have the chance to sing 'Four Minutes' when there's four minutes until a possible huge explosion? Huh?"

She sighed, and to my surprise, both she and Fang sang along…

"_Time is waiting_

_We only got four minutes to save the world!_

_No hesitating_

_Grab a boy, grab a girl!"_

***3 minutes left***

Though I didn't tell the others, I was freaked out. We really only had 180 seconds. 180 seconds! And I was staring in shock at the advanced circuitry. I bet Einstein would be scratching his head on this one. ARGH! Why couldn't I have learned electrical engineering at my brief time in school instead of stinkin' grammar? I pulled out a green motherboard that had literally fifty or sixty different wires of all kinds running out of it. I kind of wanted to cry in hopelessness, but I had to be brave for Angel. Even though she was probably already reading my mind right now. Great.

***2 minutes left***

"How are you doing, Gazzy?"

I was really close to crying now. I turned to them, shoving the timer away in frustration. "I don't think I can do it."

"Yes you can, Gazzy! Come on, what can we do to help?" Angel shook my shoulders and moved the timer to the center of the floor.

"We believe in you, Gazzy," said Fang. Let me repeat that. Fang SPOKE. And spoke with encouragement. That's reason enough to get anyone extra motivation. I dove back into the wires.

"Fang, pull that wire. Angel, yank that one towards the top. Here, Fang let's unplug that one and replace it with this one…"

***1 minute left***

I looked in my little sister's eyes solemnly. "I've done it. As much as I can, at least."

"Then let's go!" Fang grabbed our arms and yanked us to our feet. We began to sprint down the tunnel. I kept a countdown in my head, 57 seconds, 56 seconds, 55 seconds…

Angel tripped and fell, but yelled, "Keep going! I'm right behind you!" We continued to sprint. We reached the hole that led to the surface.

Fang shoved me up through the top, and I was airborne.

A.N. Couldn't resist a little humor. Of course, if my friends and I really were trapped in a minefield of plastic explosives, we wouldn't be singing "Four Minutes", but hey, this is the Gasman we're talking about. Things are going to get a lot more serious in the next chapter. A _lot_ more serious. R&R please! I like to know that real human beings (or mutant beings) are actually reading this! R&R for one of Dr. Martinez's cookies!


	3. Gone

A.N. This is the moment. I kind of want to make you feel sympathetic to Gazzy, and not to Max. After all, Angel is Gazzy's actual blood relative, and not just Max's 'baby'.

So I hope you like it and I would really, really like it if you would review? Please? With Bambi eyes like Nudge's?

_We began to sprint down the tunnel… Angel tripped and fell, but yelled, "Keep going! I'm right behind you!" We continued to sprint. We reached the hole that led to the surface._

_Fang shoved me up through the top, and I was airborne._

**Chapter 3: Gone**

The next second, there was a humongous explosion that sent me tumbling to the ground. I had seen Big Boy in the cabin by the E-shaped house, I had seen the stink bomb in the school the Flock had gone to for a short while, and I had seen the results of my 'gift' at work. None of them even remotely compared to this. A large, blazing hot fireball of red, gray, white, and black loomed five feet from the edges of my shredded sneakers. It was raining asphalt. As for the air? It didn't exist, but was replaced by floating ash.

Destruction was surrounding me. I painfully pushed myself off my feet and took a shaky running start, then leaped up into the air, my once-brown wings now covered in black soot. Flap forward, flap back, forward, back, I told myself. Focus. Fly straight up. I was coughing. My lungs felt weighed down with smoke. Focus. Keep flying. Gain more altitude.

Behind me another explosion bounded, slapping me relentlessly with shock waves. Don't think about anything. Focus. Keep flying. Finally, I made it into a less hazy layer of the sky, wheezing.

"Max!" I saw the rest of the Flock hovering above the devastation.

"Gaz! Thank God you're okay! Where's Angel? And Fang?"

I tried to answer her but all the smoke in my lungs decided to try to come out at that moment. I hacked and choked, and even couldn't breathe for a second. I drifted down to an area, landed on my knees and proceeded to heave my guts out. My eyes burned so bad that all of those pent-up tears came tumbling down my slightly burnt cheeks. I skinned my palms on the harsh rubble that covered the ground.

"Gazzy! What happened?" Max nervously demanded, but I just shook my head. Talking was out of the question right now. I vaguely felt the pounding aftershocks of the explosion. Max coaxed me to get back into the air. I kept vomiting up black soot. Disgusting.

Max was watching Dylan go down to find Fang and Angel. Suddenly Fang burst out from the sewers, "Gaz! You made it out!" he said gasping. I ignored him, watching worriedly for my little sister.

"Angel was right behind me," I said to no one in particular. "Right behind me!" I pushed myself out of Max's arms and scanned the ground below.

Behind me I could hear Max questioning Fang, "Where's Angel?"

"I—don't—"

"How could you leave her?" I barely paid attention to Max's shrieking.

I zoomed down to the endless wreckage. I spun around, flipped in mid-air, tried to catch a glimpse, a small glimpse of Angel. I cried out to the gray smoke and black soot that covered every surface, "Angel, where are you?" The sound of sirens was the only reply.

I couldn't take this. I collapsed, sobbing. She's gone. She's gone. She's gone.

Angel, my baby sister, only two years younger than me, so little yet so smart, way too mature to be seven, so sweet and adorable, yet so confident and dangerous…

Gone.

I sat in a tearful daze. I had said something to Max about the network of the bombs and poison gas that might still be down there. I cradled Angel's sneaker, what was left of it. I tried not to look at the spot of blood on the side. Seven years old, and this is what I have left of her.

"I tried to get to all of them. I thought I had. There must have been like a remote setoff that I didn't know about. I don't know what happened." Max wouldn't stop looking for Angel. I would be searching too, but I felt like I had been in an demolition, which I had.

I leaned into Iggy's shoulder, his friendly arm comforting me. I watched as rescue crews arrived on the scene. Several of them entered the sewers. Probably to fix up my horrible job at disabling the bombs. Angel hadn't been in any of the hospitals or shelters.

Gone.


	4. Angered

A.N. All right. I know you guys are reading this, because there's a thing called a hit counter, and last I checked there were 32 hits. So I know you guys are reading this. Why don't you reviews? ;)

So what happened after the book ANGEL? Here's Gazzy's perspective. And if he seems OOC, it's because he is. If you thought it was your fault your little sister was dead, wouldn't you feel a little out of character? Just saying.

**Chapter 4: Angered**

_Angel, my baby sister, only two years younger than me, so little yet so smart, way too mature to be seven, so sweet and adorable, yet so confident and dangerous…_

_Gone. _

At some point, Fang and his 'gang' took off. Going somewhere, don't really care. Iggy is carrying me. We landed in Spain, I think. A motel. Max pushed me into the shower. I stood there. Eventually I gently rubbed soap all over my body. I know, the Gasman using soap?

Angel liked the smell of soap. The hot water was like acid on my burns and scrapes, but I didn't care.

Angel was gone.

I sat on the motel bed and Nudge put ointment on my burns. There was a really bad one on my right side, so I wore an Ace Bandage around my torso. Iggy ruffled my hair. I still clutched Angel's sneaker.

That's when the anger hit me.

Why was I so weak? Not too long ago, Jeb was in a crashing plane. You know who was the only one available to catch him? That's right, me. Little Gazzy, holding Jeb, plummeting to the earth from the extra weight.

And you know what? I dropped him. If it weren't for Dylan, Jeb would be dead because of me.

Now this. I was given a task that determined the lives of thousands of people. And what do you know, I mess that up too. Poison gas is probably seeping through the grates of the vents in this motel room for all I know. Oh sure, Gazzy's so great at bombs and weapons. But give him a task that actually matters and ker-splot! Lives are ended.

Including Angel's.

And it's all my fault. I stand to my feet. I've never felt this angry before. Not even when Iggy dumped two whole bottles of hot sauce into the milk carton and I gulped it down. Not even when Nudge replaced everything in my room with pink. Not even when Max gave me a buzz cut in my sleep for using her favorite jeans as fuel for a bomb.

This is something new, complete fury. I look in the mirror at myself and see what looks like Max's expression when she's battling Erasers, Flyboys, M-Geeks, etc. Cold, pitiless, anger. I scowl even more and punch the mirror as hard as I can. It shatters all over the motel carpet. How can I even look at myself? After what I've done… or couldn't do.

"Gazzy?" Nudge miserably looks at me, going on a destructive rampage.

Iggy half-heartedly mumbled, "Seven years of bad luck for you, man."

Seven years. Angel was only seven years old. I whirl on him, anger radiating off of me. "How can you make jokes at a time like this?"

Iggy sighs, "I'm sorry." I knew that this was his way of coping, but I was too mad to care.

"Sorry... Sorry? Sorry? SORRY! Sorry is not going to bring her back! Sorry is just a word! Sorry!" I'm vaguely aware that my outbursts are causing Nudge and Iggy to look concerned.

Max comes in, bleary eyed from the longest, most horrible day in history. "Gazzy, just calm down—"

Now I turn on Max. I stalk up to her, point my finger in her face and say, "You did this! You put the three of us down there! Seven minutes? Really? And you let Angel stay down there with us? Why would you do that, Max? Why?" Max looked hurt. I didn't care.

I glare at the TV, that's faintly making noise. I stand in sudden calm and listen.

"This is Natalie Smith, and we are here at the site of the Paris explosion. Just earlier today, there was a well-known gathering for the Doomsday Group. This groups was gathered on a plaza that somehow contained large amounts of explosives in the sewers below. We have Carson Williams at the scene. Carson?"

"Officials are shocked at this event, Natalie. Somehow, someone managed to plant so many explosives that it's a wonder that the Doomsday Group guards didn't find out before the event. Our sources do tell us that some people had known of the bomb and plastic explosives, but failed to deactivate enough of it in time. There are bomb squads down in these sewers making sure that no other explosives are at risk of detonating. One squad discovered many tanks of poison gas near the explosion site, but by some miracle, they did not release their deadly fumes into the sewer systems. Back to you, Natalie."

"It is currently unknown the number of casualties as crews are finding more and more victims in the wreckage. Authorities report that so far, almost one hundred and fifty people have been injured or found dead—" The TV didn't make another sound.

Because I kicked it and the glass shattered.

I just stood there, staring at the smoking device in front of me. Max came over and hugged me, but I didn't hug her back. I squeezed my eyes shut tightly.

One hundred and fifty people. Did that include Angel?

A.N. So the past four chapters have been from Gazzy's POV, and while I think he needs to have his say in the story, we need other characters to balance out the story. So the next chapter will be from Max's POV, starting where she comes in at this chapter and continue on from there.

IMPORTANT NOTE: REVIEW! Sorry, had to get your attention. But seriously, review!


	5. Comfort

A.N. Okay, so enough of Gazzy sadness. Max is going to comfort him here, and a promise will be made. Sorry it's so short, but James Patterson's chapters are short anyways. Enjoy!

**Chapter 5: Comfort**

Max POV

I watched in shock as Gazzy, GAZZY of all people, destroyed the television with his foot. I had never, ever, EVER seen him this mad. Not even when we were being attacked by Erasers. His face was scrunched up tightly in an expression I had never seen before, his blue eyes squeezed shut. His small hands are balled up into little fists at his sides.

Actually, take that back. I had seen him this upset in the past, back all that time ago when Angel was kidnapped. I could still picture him wailing on the floor of the sideways E house back in Colorado, screaming, "_They have my sister!_"

But back then, his anger and sadness was directed at the School, and he still had a hope of finding his sister at the facility. This time, he was probably feeling like it was his fault, and Angel was considered dead. He felt like there was no one to blame but himself. I guess seeing the death count on television just added to his fury.

I was definitely going to be watching him, that's for sure. I walked over to Gazzy and pulled him into a hug. When he didn't hug me back, I knew that what happened had hurt him more than any of us could even imagine. I glanced up at Dylan, standing with the others and watching Gazzy's breakdown with concern obvious on their faces. I motioned for them to leave us alone for a while, and they nodded and exited the room.

I guided Gazzy over to the bed, sat him down, and knelt down to his level. I snatched up some tissues and handed them to him, and he rubbed away his hot, salty tears that ran down his cheeks. "Gazzy," I began in a soothing voice. He sniffed and opened his eyes. I took a deep breath, ready to provide some comfort to this little kid who had experienced a heavy loss. He was probably scarred for life.

"Gazzy, I think I know what you're thinking. You think that when you were down in the sewers, Angel was your responsibility. And the rest of the people on the plaza, right?" He nodded morosely. "Well, that's not true, Gazzy. None of that was your responsibility. If anything, it was mine. No one was expecting you to save those people."

At that, Gazzy glared at me. "Then why did you let me try if you didn't think I could do it?" he hissed.

I tried a different approach. "What happened down there was all an accident. It. Was. Not. Your. Fault. You were all trying to get out of the sewers, right? All three of you? Well, it was an accident that Angel didn't get out of there in time. An accident, Gazzy." I looked him in the eye. "What's going through your head right now?"

He was silent for a moment, and replied in a faint whisper, "I wish it was me instead."

My heart sank. I had to get through to him. I gently, but firmly, grabbed his shoulders. "Gaz, do not wish that on yourself. I _want_ you here. All of us want you here. _Angel_ would want you here. Do you understand me? There is no reason to think you should have taken her place. Sure, if we had a choice, we would have wanted Angel and you to get out of there together. But we didn't have that choice."

He looked at me, his blue Angel-like eyes brimming with tears. I whispered, "We need to move on. We have to make sure Angel didn't die for us to lose. Okay?"

He nodded. "For Angel."

Gazzy POV

Max told me about how it was all an accident, how Angel would want us to keep moving on. I promised myself, _I will get revenge. I will avenge my sister Angel. I will. _"For Angel," I whispered.

A.N. So nine-year-old Gasman vows to get revenge? Look out, Doomsday Group! Review! Please! Review!


	6. Plans

A.N. Thank you to FangNotFnick for reviewing! Sorry for the long waits between chapters, but I think of this stuff over the period of at least twenty hours. Typing it is a whole other story. It's sad, I know, but here you go! At the end I have some future story ideas for you to vote on! ;) Read on!

_Max told me about how it was all an accident, how Angel would want us to keep moving on. I promised myself, __**I will get revenge. I will avenge my sister Angel. I will.**__ "For Angel," I whispered._

**Chapter 6: Plans**

Max POV

The next morning I got a phone call from Fang. I walked outside of the hotel to answer it, so the others wouldn't hear anything we had to say to each other.

"Hey."

"Hey."

"How's Gazzy doing?" After knowing this guy for our entire lives, I knew he had been seriously worried about the nine-year-old, especially after the ordeal the day before.

"As well as can be expected, I guess," I sighed. I've decided not to think about Angel too hard, just muscle my way past the grief and be strong for the Flock. "I gave him a little talk last night, but something in him has changed. I'm definitely going to be watching him. How are things going with your gang?"

"Pretty good. We're still licking our wounds after yesterday." I could hear the faint sadness in Fang's voice. Thinking of Angel too, I bet.

"Same here. We're going to rest up for another day and then head out… somewhere."

"What's your plan?"

I almost blurted that I had a plan, but I didn't, and I was sick and tired of pretending that I did. "I don't have one. How about you?"

"Following a lead that Gazzy gave me before we left. The DGers are going to hit London next, apparently. Plenty of old buildings to hide explosives."

There was silence as we both thought really hard. Jeb, my mom, and Ella crossed my mind. I would go after them, but unfortunately I didn't know where they went. With Jeb's resources, they could be anywhere in the world by now. We needed some idea of a major area to go next.

_Tokyo, Max. Rest stops in Russia and China._ Finally! The Voice speaks up to help!

I said, "Tokyo. With the number of people there, it's a possibility."

"Okay. We'll hit England and you hit Japan. Check back with you later. Good luck."

"You too." I hung up the phone, jammed in my pocket, and sprinted back inside to our room.

"Guys, we're going to Tokyo," I announced. Silence. I looked at my pitiful, pitiful Flock. Iggy was lying on the bed, staring at the ceiling with blind blue eyes. Dylan was standing, forehead against the wall, eyes closed. Was he sleeping? Gazzy was sitting calmly on the hotel rug, with the tiny pen and notepad in his hand that you always find on the nightstand of a hotel. I looked over his shoulder. He was drawing an incredibly good image of… Angel. Well, if it was helping him through this…

Nudge was alone in the adjoining room next to this one. I peeked through the doorway. She was sitting in the chair, her hands on her knees palms-up. Three small magnetic spheres hovered in front of her face. They swirled hypnotically, flipping over each other, like a cool juggling act. Nudge blinked and the magnets flew around the room, flying in loops and spins. It was like they had a life of their own. Finally they came back to her, spun around her head once and dropped into her hands. Wow. "You've been practicing."

Nudge jumped, unaware that I was there. She sighed, and nodded, "Yeah. If something is magnetic, I can get more control over it instead of just attracting it to me. I can also move large metal objects, like eighteen-wheelers. Maybe it can help in the fights to come." I was in shock. Nudge - cheerful, upbeat, nonsense-talking Nudge - just made a serious, useful, mature, non-run-on statement. And stopped talking _without_ the duct tape.

Then I remembered that Nudge was twelve now, as tall as me, and growing up. When she stood from her seat, she looked me in the eye. Though we didn't say anything, I knew that she would be my closest friend from now on. Fang was gone, and Dylan was new. Nudge and I would be there for each other, without a doubt.

I told her, "Come on to the other room. I want to tell you guys something."

Gazzy POV

I sighed as I finished my drawing of Angel. My heart thudded hard inside my chest as I looked into the eyes of my sister. I wanted to have her cute little face forever. I tore off the sheet of the notepad, folded it, and stuck it deep in my pocket. Angel would always be with me.

Max and Nudge came into the room. "Guys, I don't know if you heard me before, but we're headed out to Tokyo tomorrow." She received blank stares. Hey, geography isn't our forte!

Iggy mumbled, "That's in Japan, right?"

"Yup. It'll be the longest distance of traveling we've flown yet. 6500 miles. We'll probably take two to three days, stopping in Moscow and somewhere in China if we have to." The Voice probably gave her this info, because Max almost never thought that far ahead.

There was a pause. I spoke up, "Why Tokyo?"

"Because it's the most populated city in the world. Plus, the buildings there are perfect places to hide more explosives." I winced at that word. _Explosives_. Then I mentally slapped myself. Snap out of it, Gazzy. You're a pyromaniac. And you'll have Iggy with you this time.

Max continued. "We'll leave tomorrow morning. Start stuffing your faces now, because we'll need to pack light, which means no extra food. I'm going to head to a store and grab some more clothes to replace our shredded ones. Especially hoodies. Try to gather any free soaps or whatever, because I don't know how much things will cost out there. And Iggy, Gazzy, nothing illegal please! I'll see you in a few hours." I felt the Flock sit up a little straighter now. Max was leading us like she had against ITEX all those months ago, with the strength and wisdom we had missed for a while. We were unstoppable back then, and we would be unstoppable now. I just knew it. And if anyone from the Doomsday Group crossed my path, I had several personal-sized homemade grenades with their names written on them.

So, Tokyo it is.

A.N. I've never been to Tokyo. If anyone has, feel free to tell me what it's like! ;) Review, review, review, or poor Gazzy will never find his sister!

So I have some more ideas for stories. Vote for the ones you like best! ;)

1. Nudge's boarding school days- What really happened in MAX when Nudge went to school? (Crossover with Gallagher Girls series)

2. The Flock's life in the School- How they met, how Jeb got them out, and what Ari was like as a little boy?

3. Hidden Talents- The many known and unknown talents that the Flock members have, and tales where they come in handy?

4. What if… - Using different situations in JP's books, what would happen if things ended up differently?

So yeah. This list will also be on the next chapter of Double the Nudge! Stay tuned readers!


	7. Intense

A.N. Thanks to FangNotFnick for reviewing! Note that this is more of a filler chapter… and a long one at that! ;)

_Max was leading us like she had against ITEX all those months ago, with the strength and wisdom we had missed for a while. We were unstoppable back then, and we would be unstoppable now. I just knew it. And if anyone from the Doomsday Group crossed my path, I had several personal-sized homemade grenades with their names written on them._

_So, Tokyo it is._

**Chapter 7: Intense**

Max POV

In the early morning, I kicked the Flock awake, chucked their clothes in their faces, shoved McMuffins in their mouths, and threw them out the window. Don't worry, this is normal for our lives. As I did all this, though, I noticed a few things (besides the obvious two missing Flock members): Iggy sleeps with his eyes slightly open, which was natural for him, I guess, but creepy for me; Dylan was awake all night, staring out the window; Gazzy must have cried himself to sleep, poor kiddo; and Nudge wouldn't look at Gazzy AT ALL. Why, I had no clue.

Anyways, by four in the morning we were soaring above mid-Eastern Europe. For some reason, flying wasn't as much fun as it used to be. Part of it was our mood, which was hitting an all-time low, part of it was the frigid cold temperature (and we only had light windbreakers), and part of it was the silence. Normally I would count on Nudge to run her trap for at least ten hours, but she hadn't said a word all morning.

So, faced with utter boredom for the next several hours, I let my mind wander. I thought of Jeb, my biological "father", who had become completely unpredictable and now seemed to be in cahoots with the DGers. My biological mom, Dr. Martinez, was missing with him, which was surprising, since last I checked, she was a good guy. And my half-sister, Ella, who right now was probably getting mutant wings grafted onto her. I shuddered. She had no idea what she was getting herself into. But the Flock had no idea where she was, and there were more people in trouble at the moment than just my family.

Next, I thought of Fang, who had decided to team up with my clone, Max II/Maya. That hurt a lot, let me tell you. Fang kept trying to pretend that Maya was "a unique individual" and "completely different from me", but he was forgetting that SHE WAS MY CLONE! Ugh.

Finally, I thought of Angel. My baby. No Max, I told myself. Angel is off-limits. Don't even go there. Forget her for a while.

_You cannot forget what is important, Max._

"NOOOOOO!" I screamed in annoyance. The Flock jumped. After so long of silence, any sound was startling. I smiled apologetically, and dropped to the back of the formation.

Gosh, Voice! Can't I just have a second of mental privacy?

_Max, you are forgetting your mission._

What? How am I forgetting? I'm dragging the Flock to freaking Tokyo, for crying out loud, instead of hunting down my family!

_What is your mission, Max?_

Is that a trick question? Save the world!

_You once told me that your family was your world._

And they are. What are you getting at?

_Isn't Angel part of your family?_ I frowned, fighting back the tears.

You mean "Wasn't Angel part of my family", right? She's… she's dead.

_Do you really believe that Max? Do you really believe she's gone?_

I didn't even have an answer for that.

Dylan POV

Last night I had stared out the window, stretching my sight to its limits. I could see the cleanup crews at the site of the Paris explosion, still picking up the pieces. I could see Fang's gang up in London. And I could faintly, just barely, see the island of Japan. I had been there before, on my trips with Dr. Gunther-Hagen (I still didn't know if he was alive or not). Tokyo was a cool city, but I knew that if the Flock and I didn't stop the DGers, it wouldn't exist anymore.

I knew the rest of these kids I was with were taking Angel's death hard. Especially the Gasman. I shuddered to think of what he _thought_ he had done to his sister. Everyone else but him knew that the explosion wasn't his fault. Whether he would actually accept that or not... we would see.

But the following morning, seeing Max almost back to her old self again, barking orders, commanding the others, leading the way, it made me smile. Everything was normal, except for the silence we had to endure during the flight. Nudge, surprisingly, didn't say a single word.

Suddenly, Max screeched, "NOOOOOOOOO!" I spun around, expecting gunmen dropping from fighter jets in parachutes or mutant assassins assaulting us, but Max just seemed really peeved. She fell to the back of the flying V formation, and I zoomed up to the point to keep up the slipstream for the others. Max seemed to be arguing in her head, and I remember that she had some sort of voice stuck upstairs. Finally she just gave up, sighing.

As much as I loved her, I would never really, truly understand Maximum Ride.

Iggy POV

Let me just say, a life with the Max Ride is not pleasant. Your mornings seem like the worst things possible, particularly when you wake up with a hard kick in the ribs. But today was one of the worst ever. Frigid cold winds that numbed your wings, a depressing atmosphere from the loss of Angel, only four McMuffins in the stomach (when there really should have been at least fifteen, especially since we were flying all day long). Oh, and I'm blind. So imagine just gliding through space, in freezing, pitch-black darkness, silence all around you, and sadness on your heart.

Real happy stuff, right?

After Max had another mental battle with the Voice, the Flock relapsed to utter quietness, which I cannot take. Not only is it dull beyond belief, it's dangerous for me. I have to know that I haven't flown away from my family. So, to shake things up, I called out to Gazzy.

"Hey! Hot potato, Gasman?" I heard a faint mumble in return, and quickly dug out my ultra-special-bomb-making-stuff.

For those of you pathetic, non-pyrotechnics out there, "Hot potato" is a game that my partner-in-crime and I play on long flights. The point is to make a small, loud bomb. One person starts with a piece, then tosses it to the other, who adds a piece, and that person tosses it back, and that person adds a piece, and so on, until a bomb is built. The one who has the finished product gets to chuck it up in the air, and we both enjoy the explosion.

So Gazzy and I played, throwing the explosive back and forth. Finally, I heard a click, Gazzy grunted, and a wonderfully loud BOOM sounded above the Flock's heads. Max complained about us always causing destruction, Nudge whined about the noise, and Dylan just chuckled. I laughed and swooped over to Gazzy, holding my hand up for a high-five. I waited, expecting Gazzy to slap my palm with his. But to my complete shock, he just sighed and flew away from me. I couldn't believe it.

He left me hanging.

We had done the high-five at least a million times in our lives, no exaggeration. Every single time, we raised our hands, smacked our palms together, and cackled hysterically. Every. Single. Time.

But now Gazzy, my best friend in the whole world, my sort-of younger brother… he left me hanging. Wow, he must have been hurting a whole more than I thought.

I just coasted for a while, thinking hard. I'm not really one who goes too deep on things. I just kind of joke things off. I have to. Because when I let some thoughts through, when I get to the heart of a situation… it hurts. But Gazzy must have been really hurting, must have been feeling guilt, sadness, hopelessness. So, I decided, as his older, caring brother, I would be there for him, for whatever he needed. Right now he needed his space, I decided.

Max POV

What can I say about Russia? It's cold. Moscow's pretty crowded, like any city in the world. I honestly don't remember any of it. We crash-landed on a building and somehow were up in the skies the next day. The second day of travel went as well as the first, and we made good time. We actually skipped the China rest stop.

And landed in Japan. Some place called Kyoto. They have these subways that we napped on until we got to Tokyo. Sorry to those lovely Japanese people who had to endure our deep snores on the ride!

We finally flopped onto soft beds, totally wiped. I ordered tons of ice packs, and we just lay face-down on our beds with the ice resting on our wing muscles. I turned on the news.

It was a live broadcast story about some building called the "Tokyo Sky Tree", according to the English subtitles. Something about the tallest building in the world or whatever.

What caught my attention was when the newscaster lady suddenly screamed, and everyone in that area being filmed stampeded away. The cameraman dropped the camera on the ground, still facing the plaza. The Flock leaned forward, staring at the television screen.

An army had stormed the scene, toting guns and yelling orders. We all groaned tiredly. Couldn't we catch a break?

A.N. So yeah! They made it to Tokyo! And for those of you who didn't see the last A.N., I have some more ideas for stories. Vote for the ones you like best! ;)

1. Nudge's boarding school days- What really happened in MAX when Nudge went to school? (Crossover with Gallagher Girls series)

2. The Flock's life in the School- How they met, how Jeb got them out, and what Ari was like as a little boy?

3. Hidden Talents- The many known and unknown talents that the Flock members have, and tales where they come in handy?

4. What if… - Using different situations in JP's books, what would happen if things ended up differently?

Until next time! ;)


	8. Tokyo

**NOTE: THIS STORY WAS PREVIOUSLY NAMED ANGERED: THE GAZZY STORY. I AM RENAMING IT TO NEVERMORE: A MAXIMUM RIDE NOVEL. JUST TO LET YOU KNOW! :)**

A.N. Thanks again to FangNotFnickPlusIggy! You are my sole reviewer, and I totally salute you for that.

Okay, so I've been planning this chapter for a long time, mostly because it features my all-time favorite birdkid, Nudge. Gazzy will not be featured this time, but there will be TONS of Nudge-action. This chapter will be longer than most, just because I feel like it. :)

**Chapter 8: Tokyo**

Max POV

Why? Why couldn't evil megalomaniacs give us a few hours of peace and quiet before forcing us to take them down in an adrenaline-filled, brutal fight? On the plus side, this meant that we hadn't flown all the way to Japan for nothing. Now we were lying on our stomachs on top of a nearby skyscraper, looking down at our enemies at the base of the Tokyo Sky Tree.

Things were not looking good. There were roughly fifteen hundred armed gunmen, stretching all the way down several roads that lay around the Sky Tree. Civilians were screaming and running clear of the area, all except for the scores of people trapped inside the Tokyo Sky Tree. The only thing we had going for us was that we could pick out the opposition's commander. Using our super-birdy hearing, we listened to the commander give his soldiers their instructions (it went like this):

All: The One Light shall set you free!

Leader: Attention! We are here today to claim Tokyo for the One Light. Moving as one, we shall bring the soon conquered city to even greater levels!

Lieutenant: Sir, what about those avian-human hybrids that had supposedly held us back from our full potential in Paris?

Leader: If anyone sees the bird-people, especially the one called Maximum Ride, aim but do not shoot. I will give the order.

All: Yes, sir!

The Flock looked at each other, concern on their faces. These guys seemed serious. There was a chance we could take out the leader and make a difference. Unfortunately, they still had the numbers and the weapons. And we had no plan to defeat them. Dylan whispered, "What should we do now, Max?"

I looked at Gazzy and Iggy with hope, "Do you guys have any—"

"No, Max. Not enough bombs, none are powerful enough to make a difference, and there are still people in that building. We can't risk their lives by detonating explosives near them." We all lay there in silence. Gazzy had said that in a voice that was way too old, tired, and mature to belong to a nine-year-old. Not only that, but he spoke the cold, hard truth.

We had a real problem below us brewing, and I, once again, did not have a plan. The rest of the Flock didn't have any ideas either, except…

Nudge nodded, suddenly whispering, "I'm going down there."

Whew! "Great, Nudge! What's your plan? Are we—"

"Actually Max, I'm the only one going down there. I have to go alone for this to work. It would be dangerous for you all to get in the way. But you can all act as back-up, in case things go wrong." Man, if I thought Gazzy looked and sounded too old for his age, Nudge was even more so. Then I remembered that I was Nudge's age when I started leading the Flock. My little girl was growing up…

"Okay. We'll be watching you, and if a single thing gets out of hand, we're right down there with you." Nudge smirked a little, nodded, and then shoved herself off the edge of the skyscraper, her tawny wings catching her fall as she landed lightly on the street before the massive army.

The funny thing about Nudge is that she looks pretty harmless to people outside the Flock. She's got large brown eyes, a child-like stance and walk, and has a happy, carefree voice. The only other Flock member who could pull that off was ... Stop it Max! Focus. Anyway, she managed to stroll right on up to the leader of the DG army unchallenged using her Bambi eyes and giant white smile.

The leader, who had seemed so tough and rigid a second before, talking about aiming to shoot us a second before, had softened like a melted marshmallow in the face of the little girl before him. Nudge greeted him in an extra-perky voice, "Hi! Do you want to see a trick?"

Iggy shook his head in confusion, "What's she doing?" Gazzy started giving him a play-by-play, in a much gloomier voice than he had in the past.

Nudge reached into her pocket and pulled out… her three metal magnets. Holding out her hand to the eyes of the commander, she lifted them above her hand as if with magic. The magnets began to spin quickly in a circle, until they seemed like a spinning hoop of shining silver. The commander watched the "trick" in an unmoving stare. I suddenly realized what Nudge was doing: hypnotizing the commander. With their leader distracted at something that was clearly interesting, the soldiers crowded in to the square. And far out into the distance, I saw that the large streetlamps that stood in regular intervals along each street that crossed near the Tokyo Sky Tree were being wrenched from their stands.

The streetlamps were metal. So Nudge was controlling them. They flew silently with incredible force and speed toward the unsuspecting men. At five seconds before impact, Nudge leaped up, unfurling her wings once more, and flew above the closely gathered army. Now they were no longer staring at their hypnotized leader, but at the girl that was soaring above their heads. Nudge reached out with her hands, and every gun in every hand flew towards her.

Then the streetlamps came into play. They skidded swiftly along the road, knocking row after row of soldiers off their feet. And the whole time, Nudge had been keeping the trio of magnets spinning in a distracting motion, keeping the leader confused and frozen in place.

After a few more minutes of the chaos ensuing below her feet, Nudge unleashed her final act of victory. Above her head had been the thousands of guns she had snatched from the Doomsday Group's army. They had been pressing together with enough force that they had partially melted together. The result? A huge, somewhat thick slab of steel and other metals looming under the army below. Nudge flew up a little higher, and then released her magnetic hold on the metal slab. It plummeted down towards the evil soldiers, and the Flock tensed in captivated anticipation.

But Nudge had never had the killer's instinct. Instead of flattening the men like I would have done, she just bent the edges of the steel panel around the army until they were trapped underneath a dome-like structure. The few stragglers that had managed to escape were quickly dispatched by Nudge and dragged next to the makeshift holding zone.

There was silence in the air. Shocked and awed at her performance, the Flock and I floated off the building to land before a heavy-breathing Nudge. She paused to fix her windblown hair like the awesome fashionista she is, and grinned at us.

"Nudge," I began.

"That…" Iggy trailed off.

"Was…" the Gasman said, slightly smiling even in his pain.

"Awesome." Dylan concluded our statement. We all rushed in for a group hug, congratulating her, patting her on the back, telling her in excited voices about our favorite moves.

Eventually we came to our senses. Nudge reminded us, "We need to get the authorities. I can't hold them under that thing forever.

About an hour later, every last DG soldier was packed inside a Japanese police van, being driven off to a better, more secure containment facility. Through it all, Nudge had been keeping the commander occupied with the three magnets that were STILL spinning. He didn't even know he was in handcuffs until Nudge had taken the three balls of metal and returned them to her pocket.

We were about to head off for lunch in some part of Tokyo that hadn't been deserted in fear, when we were stopped in our tracks by a loud moaning sound. Nudge spun around, her face paling. "Oh, no," she mumbled. She suddenly began to sprint back towards the Tokyo Sky Tree, which was now tilting over. All of Nudge's action with the magnets and the steel and iron must have somehow weakened the base of the tower, because it was falling over farther than the Leaning Tower of Pisa. Nudge skidded to the base of the tower, slammed her palms against the metal, and dug her worn-out high tops into the pavement. Surprisingly, the tower stopped. We all ran after Nudge watching her as she supported around 3000 tons of metal.

"Nudge! Are you okay! How can we help?" We were all screaming over the noise as Japanese men and women were once again running away in terror.

She just shook her head, replying, "Don't touch it! No one touch the metal! There's something weird going on in it. I've got it. Just… just, like, get a crane or something. Something to grab the tower from the other side!" We raced around like lunatics, trying to flag down someone who looked official enough to get a crane sent down to help the twelve-year-old girl who was single-handedly supporting the Tokyo Sky Tree.

Finally, one person understood our calls for help and radioed in the crane. After a brief conversation in Japanese, he told us, "The crane is on its way, but it will take a few hours or more. There's just too much chaos in the streets. But it is on its way."

After thanking him, we ran back to Nudge, who was already straining under the weight. "Nudge, the crane is coming, but it'll be a while until it gets here."

"How long, Max? I can't hold this thing forever. There are still people inside!" Nudge hissed through gritted teeth.

I took a breath, and replied, "A few hours. Maybe longer." Silence filled the street, every civilian gone.

Nudge looked at me, her eyebrows furrowed in concentration at her world-record weight-lifting. "Max, you know you can't wait that long. You've got a mission to finish."

"Well, what are you expecting me to do? I can't just leave you here! We'll wait. We'll stay with you."

"Max, you have an enormous job to do. Don't worry about me. I'll catch up with you guys later."

"I'm NOT leaving you here alone, Nudge—"

"I'll stay." Nudge and I stopped our bickering and stared at Dylan, who stepped forward. "I'll stay here in Tokyo with Nudge while you three head out to the next destination. I recommend Los Angeles, by the way."

I was going to argue some more, but the rest of the Flock was nodding their heads in agreement. I sighed, "Fine. I guess that'll work. But Dylan, can I talk to you for a second?" I pulled him aside. "I want you to keep me posted on progress here. Here's my cell phone. We'll just use Iggy's. If Nudge needs anything, you get it for her. You're in charge. I believe you're trustworthy, but if anything, ANYTHING, happens to Nudge, you're going to discover a whole new side of Max Ride, and it won't be pretty. I… I've already lost one of my family so—"

Dylan stopped me in my mini-rant with a kiss. "You're beautiful when you're concerned. Don't worry, Max. We'll both be fine."

I nodded quickly, and hugged Nudge, carefully avoiding her arms and the building. "Be safe." Never a fan of mushy goodbyes, I immediately flew off, Iggy and Gazzy trailing behind me.

My Flock seemed to be getting smaller and smaller.

A.N. Whew. That took forever to type. I actually wrote it in my room, an airport in Seattle, a car ride in California, and a plane from Las Vegas. Now I'm back and getting ready for school, so unfortunately, updates will be very infrequent. I am really hoping to finish this story by Christmas, so if you want it done before then… REVIEW! ;) I've already gotten started on Chapter Nine, featuring Nudge and Dylan, and I have this story planned through Chapter Eleven.


	9. Blurt

A. N. Whooee. It's been a while. Yeah… so… Here's Chapter Nine!

_"Max, you have an enormous job to do. Don't worry about me. I'll catch up with you guys later."_

_"I'm NOT leaving you here alone, Nudge—"_

"_I'll stay." Nudge and I stopped our bickering and stared at Dylan, who stepped forward. "I'll stay here in Tokyo with Nudge while you three head out to the next destination. I recommend Los Angeles, by the way."_

_My Flock seemed to be getting smaller and smaller._

**Chapter 9: Blurt**

Nudge POV

My birdkid ears heard three of my best friends fly away. I took a shaky breath, grunting as I struggled to keep my arms locked in place. My brain slowly grasped the fact that I was doing the impossible: supporting a skyscraper with my bare hands. Do I need to describe the pain? No, I don't think I do.

_Pain is just a message. _That had been drilled into my head years ago by Jeb, the man who put us all through intense martial arts. Yeah, I'd take a million of Max's kidney punches if it would get me out from under this thing.

I heard shuffling next to me, and I glanced over my shoulder at Dylan. I wondered why he had volunteered as Nudge's Babysitter, when he could be in the skies with Maximum Ride? He was staring at me with an almost calm expression. His shocked eyes betrayed him, though.

He was the one who finally broke the silence. "Do you need anything?" he asked, concern evident in his voice.

I laughed a little at this. There were many things I needed right now, but most were impossible for me to get. "Nope, I'm good."

Dylan didn't buy it. "You don't have to hide anything. Max isn't here."

Max isn't here. Those three words triggered the warm tears that flowed from my eyes. I have held them back for the past few days because I had to be strong, to show Max that the loss of Angel wouldn't end everything (which was a total lie). But Max wasn't here now, and the weight of the Tokyo Sky Tree completely unleashed the waterworks. I balled my eyes out, feeling Dylan rubbing my shoulder, whispering, "It's okay, it's okay." I just cried harder, remembering how Fang used to do the same thing.

The sun began to settle down on the horizon when I settled with sniffling. Dylan said softly, "Do you want to talk about it?"

Just like the tears, my emotions just flowed out. That's the thing: when my mouth opens up and I start talking, I generally don't stop until I speak every thought in my head. A gift? A curse? Take your pick.

I took my legendary double-deep breath (a couple air sacs come in handy when you're a motormouth like me), and blurted...

"It all started when Fang left. I mean, I still don't get why he deserted us. He didn't think it through. He didn't think what it would do to us. To Max, it was literally losing half her heart. Iggy was Fang's best friend. Gazzy and Angel always thought of him as their father, and he was my big brother. It tore us all apart, and no offense, Dylan, but you weren't helping. I don't know really how the others dealt with it, but I just felt… hollow. I felt like I didn't matter much anymore. It was worse when we heard that Fang made his own group, like we were replaced by his new family. And I don't know if you've noticed, but when people I love are separated from me, I don't handle it so well. When I left the Flock to go to school, when Max and Fang were kicked out of the Flock, when Fang left us with a note, when the Gasman and Angel went undercover to meet the Doomsday Group, and… and when Angel left… It breaks my heart. But the horrible thing is that I'm not suffering as much as the others are.

"I mean, Max has it bad. When you really think about it, it's remarkable that she's made it this far without having a total meltdown. To start with, she was born with two percent of bird DNA without knowing who her parents were until years later. At age twelve she was responsible for five other kids. When she was only fourteen, the youngest girl was kidnapped by Erasers. Her mom was kidnapped by an evil megalomaniac and it took her weeks to recover. Not to mention her growing relationship with Fang, who broke it off in the worst way possible. And then Paris, it just… she just pushes on. She's amazing. She's my hero. Anyways…

"The person that I'm most worried about is Gazzy. I mean, he's barely nine. He's been everywhere, seen everything, and he has to deal with so much. Beyond that, he's very protective, especially when it comes… came to Angel. He wouldn't have even been in the sewers if she wasn't there. And that just makes me think how he felt when he realized she… she wasn't coming back. He probably felt like it was his entire fault, that he killed her."

I took a quick breath, and said, "I can't even look at him. I… I know it's not his fault. It was the Doomsday Group's fault. It's just, he was there with her in her last moments. He came out and she didn't. And he looks exactly like her. And every time I see him, I see her. And it hurts. It's wrong, it's horrible, and I'm ashamed. But it's how I feel. It's another reason that I wanted them to leave me here, because I couldn't stand looking at Gazzy. Do you get it?"

"I get it." Dylan was turning out to be a very good listener, especially compared to the rest of the Flock. Normally they would've tuned me out by the first sentence. "So what are you going to do next?"

"As soon as we get out of Tokyo I want to rejoin the others. If it were up to me, I would have us all, Fang's Gang and the Flock, meet up in a major city, like you said about Los Angeles. We would meet in an inconspicuous area, full of people, like a sports game with thousands of people. I want us all to join together to end this thing. I mean, who knows where the DGers will strike next? Most of all, I just want to be there for Max. As emotional support."

As the last rays of light settled under the Tokyo skyline, Dylan murmured, "Me too, Nudge. Me too."

A.N. Sorry it's not the greatest chapter, I just really wanted to write a Nudge monologue. If things go well, I'll be able to post the next chapter with Gazzy, Max and Iggy in it. So be honest, what did you think? And, I don't know what a flame is, but I think fire is cool, so I guess I want flames… right? :)


	10. Doubtless

A.N. Hello, my wonderful, awesome readers! Long time no see! Or, read. If any of you are in high school, you'll understand why it's taken so long. Plus, I had the awesome event of NaNoWriMo to deal with (you all should try it next year - November!).

Here is **Chapter 10**! A filler chapter… sorry! It's that time of year again: winter break = 42 hours in the car with my family + my laptop + my iPod = lots of new chappies!

By the way, I may save some of my grandma's homemade cookies for anyone who reviews. This chapter is dedicated to my reviewers, especially alj97 and NudgexWink!

"_I want us all to join together to end this thing. I mean, who knows where the DGers will strike next?"_

**Chapter 10: Doubtless**

Gazzy POV

Ever since Paris, my life had been a haze. I didn't really care about what happened, didn't care about who was around me, what they were doing. I vaguely registered that there were only three of us coasting over the Pacific (which is a long, tough trip, by the way). I could tell that Iggy was really worried about me, flying right under me to catch me if I fell or something. Max was fighting her feelings, staying strong, whatever.

The three of us crash-landed into the ocean, but the waves were nice enough to drop us off at the beach, so we didn't drown. Not that it would matter if we did. I mean, if Max drowned then the world would end, but who would care if Iggy and I died? Sigh. Happy thoughts.

When we woke up on the coast of America, Max looked around like she was expecting someone to show up. Grabbed Iggy's cell phone and hit a number. Talked to Fang (_still_ had him on speed dial). "…Where are you guys?" "…meet up with you soon..." "…Los Angeles…" Yadayadayada.

I refused to stand, so Iggy lifted me up and slung me across his shoulders to carry me, birdy-back style. This was no small feat. I'm a pretty big birdboy. Big enough that I should have been able to protect _her_… We hiked it out through LA, which Ig and I'd already been to before, so he didn't even ask me to describe the "beach bunnies". People stared, surprise surprise. Yeah, seeing a determined teenage girl with ratty clothes leading on a freakishly tall blind dude, also in ratty clothes, who was carrying a depressed-looking boy on his shoulder ALSO in ratty clothes, all dripping wet, walking through one of the most populated cities in America. I'm kinda surprised we weren't mugged, we looked so pitiful.

We left the city, civilization, human territory, whatever you want to call it. Made it to the mountains, Max said to pitch camp here for the night, blahblahblah. I slid off Iggy's shoulders and just sat on the ground. Max told me to get firewood. I did. Iggy made food, but I didn't taste it. Just went thunk in my stomach. Probably like Angel went thunk in the tunnel.

Iggy told me to get some sleep. I flopped on my side and passed out cold.

Max POV

Gazzy, Gazzy, Gazzy. What was I going to do with him? It was like the kid had lost the will to live. Which shows what a bad leader I was. I didn't even know he and Angel were so close. I mean, I knew they were close. But I didn't think that Angel's death meant he was dying too.

Iggy and I sat by the crackling fire. It reminded me of a year or so ago, when the whole Flock would hide out in the woods, eating hot dogs/desert rat and laughing. So much can change in a year. I looked at Iggy. His gaze was aimed at the fire, but he couldn't see it. He wouldn't ever be able to see it. All of our lives sucked, and his was one of the suckiest. Being blind, he depended on others for his livelihood. And, well, we weren't being very lively. The Gasman, his best friend, had shut him out. Fang, his other best friend, had ditched him to run off with another group. Nudge and Dylan were on the other side of the world, and Angel, everyone's baby sister, was dead, while Ella, the girl who _might_ have ended up as his girlfriend, had disappeared.

I was the only one left. "What are you thinking about?" I asked him.

He sat up, sighed heavily, and turned to face my direction. "Is he going to make it, Max?" His voice, normally flat and sarcastic, had a tone I rarely heard. Desperation, concern… fear. More than that, the words knocked the air out of me, because I didn't know the answer. "If she's gone for good, is he going to make it? I can't carry him on my back for the rest of his life, you know."

"I think he will, Iggy. He'll shake it off."

The thing about Iggy is that he's the only one in the Flock who can _always_ tell if I'm lying. Angel could read my mind, but I was pretty good about hiding my thoughts nowadays. Fang was pretty good too, but Iggy could see into my soul. This time was no exception. "You don't think he will. I think you've lost hope, too, Max. You don't think she's alive."

Now I was mad. "And what? You do?" I hissed. "What on earth makes you think Angel made it out? Hm? You're the bomb expert! You should know! Open your eyes Ig and see the facts!"

Silence. Then I realized what I said. I mentioned the eyes, which I was notorious for, and I was being really insensitive about the subject.

But Iggy shocked me by saying, "Maximum Ride. Where are you? I know that you're not the girl sitting next to me now, because she would one: never give up hope, even when there's _no_ chance that things will turn out right, and two: she would realize that sometimes, other people need something to hold on to. I know that Maximum Ride wouldn't talk like that. I really wonder sometimes where she's been… I haven't talked to her ever since some other girl replaced her and starting dating boys and losing focus."

His clouded midnight-blue eyes locked into mine with stunning accuracy. I didn't know what to say to that. There was an awkward silence, and Iggy smirked slightly and whispered, "I think you've gone soft, Max." Soft. What I always worked so hard not to be… Soft.

That was the last straw. I lunged at the twerp, but he simply dodged my attack like I was a bull in a Spanish bullfight. I was feeling angry enough to be one. We stood and both took our fighting stance. Iggy taunted me, "_Max_ wouldn't hesitate to put me in my place." I huffed and leaped at him again, but he sidestepped me and kneed me in the side. I tumbled to the ground, feeling my face flushing. What was going on? Last I checked, I could lay Iggy flat no problem. Iggy towered over me, the firelight illuminating his face. "Come on, Max. Is that the best you can do?"

It was a challenge, all right, fighting a blind guy who knew your fighting style even better than you did, and could hear every move you made. His reflexes had gotten sharper these past few months. Again, Max, how did you not notice this? For a girl who had once prided herself on knowing everything about everyone in her family, these were huge revelations. Blood pounded in my ears as I finally jumped into a quick roundhouse kick and caught Iggy right in the chest. He skidded on the dirt, and I pinned him to the ground in triumph.

Panting slightly, and feeling more alive than I had in a long time, I asked, "Believe me now?"

Iggy grinned his huge Iggy-grin, and answered, "Without a doubt." I pulled my friend up to his feet, and we brushed the sandy debris off our clothes. Suddenly, Iggy froze, and hissed, "Where's Gazzy?"

I whipped around to the spot where Gazzy had been sleeping earlier. He was gone. Oh gosh, not another one. "Gazzy?" My anxious voice echoed through the woods. "He can't have gotten far. Come on."

A.N. More chapters coming soon!


	11. Hallucination

A.N. Here's the second chapter of my writing marathon! Enjoy, and please review!

"_Gazzy?" My anxious voice echoed through the woods. "He can't have gotten far. Come on."_

**Chapter 11: Hallucination**

Gazzy POV

_The scenes switched so fast._

_The Eraser's huge hairy paw grabbed my shoulder and held me down to the grass. The other fist crashed into my face. I kicked upward, and he winced enough for me to roll away. Another Eraser kicked me hard in the side as I tried to stand to my feet, and I sailed backward. I heard Angel cry out, and spun around to try to get to her. I saw yet another Eraser stuff my baby sister into a sack and throw her over his shoulder. I started to sprint toward the monster, but a large, clawed hand caught on my red hoodie and dragged me backward. _No, I can't let them take her, _I thought. This Eraser had other plans, though. He grabbed my neck and squeezed so hard I started coughing. Tears ran down my face as I saw Max fail to catch up to the Eraser taking my sister. My throat was closing under the Eraser's crushing grasp. I tried to punch, kick, bite, anything. Everything started getting fuzzy. Just as the last dot of light left, I felt a crack at the back of my head. The Eraser had thrown me into a tree. I slid to the ground, dazed. The whole Flock was losing the battle in the strawberry fields, and Angel was missing…_

"_Tag, you're it, Gazzy!" Angel dove back into the water. I cackled and leaped in. For once, our lives didn't seem so bad. My wings shivered as the cold seawater ran through my feathers. I grinned, bubbles floating in my face. I spotted Angel's curly blonde hair and sped towards her in the blue ocean. She slipped just out my grasp, and I could hear her giggles stream through the water. We chased each other for a while, but eventually both my lungs and air sacs ran out of air and I surfaced, gasping. _Where was she?_ I turned around. She still didn't come up for air. Little pinpricks of panic starting rising up inside of me, and I looked towards Max back on shore. Max saw my alarm, and soon the whole Flock was searching the waters for Angel. She still hadn't come up for air…_

_Max and Fang were arguing. Ari was frowning uncomfortably. I squeezed Angel's hand. Nudge decided to go with Max and Ari, while Iggy joined Fang. I heard Angel's little voice in my head, __**Gazzy, come with me and Max. **__I glanced at Ari, and looked down. I shook my head and silently answered, _I can't, Angel. Knowing what he did to us… we should go with Fang. _Angel pulled her hand away, quietly thinking, __**I have to go with Max. I love you, Gazzy. **__I held back my tears of frustration. _I love you, too, Angel…

_The snowstorm… Angel was too little to make it out there. Max and Fang leaped out into the harsh Antarctic winds to save my sister…_

_What was she doing? Angel was swimming out into the deepest part of the Hawaiian ocean, and I couldn't follow her. Why couldn't I breathe underwater, so I could follow her and make sure she was safe? The submarine seemed like a jail, holding me back from my sister who was carelessly endangering her life…_

_Why would she join Dr. Gunther-Haagen? I never would understand why my sister made so many stupid decisions. I felt betrayed…_

_The explosion blast threw me backwards. I skidded on the Paris asphalt. Angel…_

_All those times…_

_As far as big brothers go, I was one of the worst._

I jumped awake, panting lightly. My dreams haunted me every night, taking every moment of our lives where I had failed to protect my sister and throwing them in my face. I sat up slowly. Max and Iggy were sparring off to the side, but I ignored them.

Something caught my eye. Using my raptor vision, I could see a faint light, way out, just past the edge of the woods. In a trance, I left the campsite to follow the light.

As I neared the light, I could make out the silhouette of a girl. She was young, smaller than me. Her eyes were blue like the designs on Dr. Martinez's plates. She had golden blonde ringlets. She had pristine white feathery wings extended to their full span.

Angel.

I sprinted towards my baby sister, staring at her. It didn't seem real. "Angel…? Are you… you're… alive?" Her face was calm and blank as she looked at me with those adorable eyes. I reached out and tugged gently on her hair, like I used to do when we were little. I pulled her into a hug, but she didn't hug me back. Something was odd about this whole situation. I didn't remember Angel with a literal halo floating above her head…

She spoke quietly, "Gazzy. I'm not alive."

My heart sank again. She continued, "Because of you, I'm dead." Her voice was so blunt. I staggered backwards. It was true. "You've killed me Gazzy. Now you should join me, where I am." I was frozen in place, so stunned and shocked at my sister's words. She shimmered and faded away. I couldn't move, couldn't think or feel. I didn't see or hear the train coming my way.

A.N. Oooh… will Gazzy get run over by a train? I don't know… after two days straight of sitting in a van with my family, I'm feeling a little evil right now… Mwahahaha!

R&R! Grandma's cookies await!


	12. Distance

A.N. I accidently uploaded this chapter earlier onto my other story, Double the Nudge. Oops. (Thanks for the catch, Betakeys!) Sorry for the long wait, AGAIN. One word: School.

Thank you reviewers, and here you go readers!

_I couldn't move, couldn't think or feel. I didn't see or hear the train coming my way._

**Chapter 12: Distance**

Fang POV

We were passing through Nebraska. We "borrowed" a van that actually fit us all somewhat comfortably. Holden and Kate were in the back seat, playing go fish. Ratchet and Star were in the middle, annoying each other and driving the rest of us crazy. I was riding shotgun, while Maya was driving. She was a much better driver than Max ever was; she actually had a permit and had been taking lessons. So I felt much safer and less afraid of getting in a huge accident.

Maya glanced over at me, and muttered, "Still thinking about them?" I knew she meant the Flock. My real family, the kids I had grown up with. I felt guilty about ditching them yet again, and in their time of grief no less. I wasn't feeling too great about the situation. It turned out that England was a dud, and nothing really amazing happened. The DGers tried to organize another rally, but the British authorities were getting in the way, so they vanished, probably to regroup. Now the gang and I were back in America, driving from New York to Vegas, where we would meet up with Max, Iggy, and Gazzy.

That was the plan, anyways.

It was encouraging to hear about Nudge's success in Tokyo (Kate just huffed and said it wasn't that impressive), but I was even happier to hear that Dylan was staying in Tokyo with Nudge - and away from Max. As much as I hated to admit it, I still had feelings for the leader of the Flock. But now… I looked at Maya beside me. She was so similar to Max, and yet so different.

Maya's attention returned to the road, her pink highlighted hair resting on her calm shoulders, not as tense as Max usually was. She continued softly, "I hope they're all dealing with it well." I nodded, thinking about Angel. Why didn't I get her out of the sewers first? That was one mistake I was going to regret forever. Max's anguished voice stuck in my memory, "_Why did you leave her_?"

A couple hours later, everyone was begging to be let out at a rest stop. Good old McDonald's. No matter where you are in the country, you'll find that place somewhere nearby. Sorry we ate literally all of the food for the day. (Star eats like fifty truck drivers.) We sat outside. Holden flicked his French fry at Maya, and Kate was ranting about how we were eating innocent little cows.

Ratchet was quiet for once, which was unusual. He was staring out into the distance. His headphones and sunglasses were off, so I knew he was letting his senses roam. His guarded eyes scanned the horizon, and suddenly, they widened. "Yo, Fang. What's the name of that little blonde dude again?"

I started feeling uneasy. "The Gasman?"

Now Ratchet was on his feet, squinting slightly. "Yeah… he's on some train tracks, talkin' to himself."

"What?"

Ratchet gulped, and said, "Um… there's a train comin'. Fang?" He turned and gave me a hard look. "It doesn't look like he's gonna move anytime soon."

Instantly, Star leaped out of her chair, taking a long swig of her tenth milkshake. "I'm on it."

"Wait, Star, you can't-"

Star ignored my protests and demanded, "Where is he?"

Ratchet's eyes flickered slightly, and he replied, "A couple miles east of LA. California. Star, even you can't make it!"

His words were wasted. Star speedily laced her running shoes extra tight, and a second later, she was gone. There was a literal dust cloud where she had been standing a moment ago, and her footprints were imprinted in the concrete sidewalk in front of the McDonald's. Shortly afterwards, there was a loud, earsplitting BOOM!

Kate whispered hesitantly, "Did Star just break the sound barrier?"

Star POV

Wow… I've never had my own POV before. It's pretty awesome! So yeah.

Hi. My name is Star. But you already knew that. I'm not as much of a weirdo freak as Fang and his bird friends are. I'm pretty normal.

Er, at least I _was_ normal. I was kidnapped from my boring private school a few months ago, along with my friend Kate. We were taken to this secret facility, experimented on, got enhanced, got special abilities, blah blah blah. I really don't remember much of it.

I do know that I _can't_ stop _eating_. It's ridiculous. I mean, before I was turned into a mutant, I thought a _salad_ was, like, a _feast_. I was a _cheerleader_, for crying out loud! Now I'm gulping down ten hamburgers a sitting, and I'm still hungry! If my coach saw me now…

The perks to my huge appetite? I can run it all off. Like, _really_ easily. I have super speed, which helps me burn calories like there's no tomorrow.

So anyways… I'm supposed to be giving you my side of this insane story, right?

So we're sitting at this little rest stop, and I'm wolfing down burgers and fries while Kate is sitting all prim and pretty, sipping on her fresh spring water and eating her veggie burger with a fork and knife. Then Ratchet stands up and starts staring off into the distance like the weirdo pervert he is. (He's always hitting on Kate and me, but we're WAY out of his league.) Then he says that the "little man" is in trouble.

I'm a real softy when it comes to little kids. Which was why it was so sad about what happened to Gazzy's little sister Angel. She was just _way_ too young to die like that. I had hoped the little boy was coping somewhat well, but apparently, that wasn't the case. I took a quick sip from my milkshake (my _ninth_, not tenth, no matter what Fang said), then got up from the table.

I started my running routine. Triple-knot your shoelaces, put your hair up in two ponytail holders, take off your jacket, and so on. (That way I don't wear out my nice clothes or get my hair stuck in my face when I'm running at top speed.) I asked Ratchet where Gazzy was, and he told me LA. Los Angeles! Gosh, I'd never run that far is so little time. But there wasn't time for second thoughts.

I took off sprinting. Normally, a jog is, like, sixty or seventy miles an hour. When I run, I can pass a hundred fifty easily. But when I sprint? Well, actually, I hadn't really needed to sprint before now. It was the strangest experience ever. Time seemed to both fly by and slow to a crawl. I could actually see the air rippling around me. I couldn't hear anything. (Later, Holden told me that I broke the sound barrier. Sweet.)

_Step step step step. Breathe in, breath out. _I found myself panting after a couple seconds, which is _so _unlike me. Time seemed to drag on, but suddenly, I tripped over something on the ground and went sprawling head-first into a tree. Ouch… I moaned faintly and looked at what had halted my progress. Railroad tracks. What the heck?

Railroad tracks. On this creepy instinct that the psycho scientists injected into me, I started running alongside the tracks as fast as I could. I glanced backward and saw a strange bluish-silver smoking trail of… ozone? No idea, science isn't my thing.

Ahead of me, I saw something approaching fast. Actually, _I_ was approaching _it_ fast. As I got closer, I saw it was… what's that thing called at the end of a train? Cabootie? Anyway, I saw it, and way, way, way at the other end of the train was the engine, and beyond that for a few hundred yards was a little boy. The Gasman. _Push it, Star. Get ahead, _I thought to myself. I felt that unfamiliar stitch in my side as I willed my legs, my lungs, my arms to propel me about thirty miles an hour faster.

I was now flying at my very limits beside the engine of the train. It was a cargo train - I could see the engineer through the window. He glanced at me, blinked, and rubbed his eyes, visibly exhausted and thinking he was seeing visions, all in slow motion.

I couldn't keep this up much longer. I saw the Gasman standing dejectedly on the tracks, staring out into space. The engineer didn't see him. I couldn't make it in time; it was impossible. I had reached my limits. My thoughts of fear for the Gasman were running through my head faster than my feet were pounding in the dirt.

Then, by some miraculous work of nature, I sprang ahead of the train two steps. The world was darkening and a shaft of mental white light split across my vision, blinding me, and I felt I only had a few seconds more of being coherent. I shot my hand out to the side in front of the train. In a millionth of a second, my fingers brushed soft cloth, and I clutched at it tightly, yanking hard.

Next thing I knew, I skidded hard into the dirty beside the railroad track, lying in a four and a half feet self-made ditch and passed out.

Gazzy POV

At the very last second, the haze that covered my vision cleared, and I saw a monstrous train in front of my face.

I was hit with enough force to splinter a glacier and faded away.

A.N. I feel REALLY evil right now. I come back from several weeks to post this chapter, and I end it with a cliffhanger. Sorry! Stay tuned! I have tons of new ideas for this story!


	13. Relief

A.N. Yeah, yeah, yeah… haven't updated in FOREVER. You know the reason why, busy busy busy... Here we go!

_My birdkid ears heard three of my best friends fly away. I took a shaky breath, grunting as I struggled to keep my arms locked in place. My brain slowly grasped the fact that I was doing the impossible: supporting a skyscraper with my bare hands._

**Chapter 13: Relief**

Nudge POV

Above my head, the stars sparkled in the sky over nighttime Tokyo. I sucked the last dregs of a quad-shot cappuccino through a straw from the cup that Dylan held. It was my _fifteenth_ coffee of the night, but I was still exhausted. My knees went numb four hours ago, my torso had been throbbing since the moon appeared, and my arms continued to burn with an unseen, painful fire. And boy was I sweaty.

Dylan had been so patient. I had hurled four times and he didn't bat an eye. Because I couldn't shift my arms, hands, or shoulders even an inch without causing the Tokyo Sky Tree to topple over several feet, Dylan had to wait on me hand and foot, but he didn't mention it at all.

At this point, I guessed it was about eleven at night, and I hadn't slept since… I don't even know. I kept drifting off in a sort-of-sleepy-daze, so Dylan's constant pinching got old after a while. But it was necessary to keep me awake.

Suddenly, down one of the streets of the city, a flood of flashing red, blue, and bright white lights illuminated the dark. The next minutes passed by in a whirl. I groaned as Dylan tapped my sore shoulder hard. "Nudge! The crane's here! It's here!" I vaguely recall his voice saying.

After some time, I slowly felt the pressure on my fingertips begin to let up. And before I knew it, I was on the ground, the Tokyo Sky Tree standing tall and strong with not one, but four cranes supporting it. I heard the snapping and flashing of cameras. _Like an annoying neighbor, the press is there._

Then the questions started flooding in: "What's your name?" "How old are you?" "Are you a superhero?" and the most insane of all, "Are you an alien?" Every reporter, with an English-speaking translator, had appeared at the scene. I still lay on the asphalt, gasping. Dylan stood like a bodyguard between the paparazzi and me, answering their questions as best he could. Eventually, the news people drifted away as cleanup crews came to get rid of the debris.

Dylan helped me sit up against the side of the building where I had collapsed. He called Max to let her know that we were all right, but on the phone, Max sounded like something else important was on her mind. She sounded worried, but at the time, we didn't know why.

About an hour after the cranes arrived, the occupants of the skyscraper were escorted out, and it was easy to see that these were high-end, multimillion dollar businessmen and women. There was such a long procession of these VIPs that they started to blur together. Or maybe that was my vision. Everything faded to a mute, blue-grey color.

My hearing was still raptor-sharp, though. From among the distinguished voices and accents, there was one that I had learned to recognize since I discovered the owner when I was eight. Could it be him?

Dylan had no idea who this amazing person was. "Who's that?"

I couldn't believe his ignorance. "_Who's that_?" I echoed, slightly groggily. "You don't know who he is? He's the wealthiest person on the planet. He has more money than any other person, company, country, or family in the world. He designed the latest premier spring line of formal dresses, shoes, and suits. He's secretly the real owner of Starbucks, Wal-Mart, McDonald's, and Apple, but no one knows about it! He owns twelve mansions, five castles, thirty-seven yachts, a whole airline of private jets, and forty different colored sports cars! He's... he's..."

The tapping sound of expensive shoes approached Dylan and me. There was a hushed silence of awe around us. "Hello," refined British accent greeted us. "I am Nino Pierpoint."

I think that was the moment when I fainted.

A.N. I've been waiting for this chapter for about six months, but I never got around to it. Hope you like it, and sorry it's so short, but I'm also doing ScriptFrenzy, among other things. Bye!


	14. Revelation

A.N. Thank you to lillypad22 and Booklover72 for reviewing! You made my day! And thank you all for reading! You passed the 2000 hit threshold, so I think you deserve an extra-long chapter this time! Hope you like it!

_The tapping sound of expensive shoes approached Dylan and me. There was a hushed silence of awe around us. "Hello," a refined British accent greeted us. "I am Nino Pierpont." I think that was the moment when I fainted._

**Chapter 14: Revelation**

Dylan POV

This Pierpont dude was rich. _Filthy _rich. As in, he snapped his finger, and two English servants dressed in matching Secret Service-type uniforms appeared like shadows at his sides. He had a very polished accent when he ordered, "Please assist the saviors to my jet." I watched as they immediately, and expressionlessly, revived Nudge enough to help her climb up the steps of a jet that had suddenly taxied right into the middle of the street. I think the Flock may have thought this before, but as I stepped into the plane, I was thinking once again, _Isn't it a little redundant for a birdkid to fly in a jet?_

The inside was way more spacious than it seemed from the sleek, slim exterior of the jet. In my travels with Dr. Gunther-Hagen, I had ridden in plenty of private planes, talking with executives of various companies and such, but not at the level of Mr. Pierpont's jet.

There were - get this - individual bedrooms on the plane. And they weren't tiny. They were mini suites! Nudge got one to herself, and so did I. I made sure that she was taken care of (poor kid, she had quite the workout) before I slipped into my own large, obscenely soft bed. As I drifted off, I thought of Max's face and thought about how messed up life actually was. If only everyone was this well-off. There would be so much less pain, and I might have had more time with Max before all this stuff happened. For all I know, we could all die within a week. _Or less,_ I thought sleepily. Then sleep claimed me, and I drifted away.

Nudge POV

_Blurs. Flashing yellow light. Cold water. Electric shock. White rooms. Metal needles, poking hard. Screams of agony. Evil chuckles of delight. Blood. Blood running everywhere..._

I gasped and bolted upright, snatching in my surroundings and checking to make sure my heart was still beating. I was sweating and breathing hard, mind whirling at the suffering I had just... It must have been just a dream. Or a memory. I shuddered as I recalled my experience with the wackos at the School. But this seemed so much more intense. Ever since I set foot on the plane, I felt really jittery, like I was in the presence of an unspeakable evil, or something.

But that was impossible. Outside the window in the room I was in, the familiar blue and white of a slightly clouded sky greeted me. I realized with sudden giddiness, I was on Nino Pierpont's private jet! I dismissed my uneasiness as an aftereffect of the whole Tokyo ordeal. My feet made quiet sounds as I took a walk around the room, slowing down my breathing and stretching my pained muscles. The only parts of me that wasn't hurting right now were my wings. I extended them to their full tawny-golden glory and arranged my primary feathers affectionately. The door to the room knocked, and I answered, "Come in."

It was Dylan. He glanced at my wings and looked up to the ceiling wordlessly. I followed his gaze and saw what he was worried about: a surveillance camera. Creepers! Stalking us while we slept? On instinct, I whipped my wings back into their hiding place. Cameras were 100% of the time bad news. The waves of anxiety rose up again, and I fidgeted with my fingers awkwardly. Dylan smiled and asked, "How are you doing?"

I nodded, distracted from the nervousness for the time being. "Pretty good. Sore, but fine. Hungry..." My stomach rumbled so loud that Dylan heard it as well.

He laughed, and beckoned for me to follow him, saying, "Pierpont wants us to have breakfast with him in the dining parlor." Breakfast with Nino Pierpont?

We walked quietly down the halls. I ran my finger along the velvet-like wallpaper, the hairs on my neck standing up for no good reason. _Relax, relax_. We stopped in front of a door, and I reached for the handle. As my fingers wrapped around the knob, every muscle tensed up. I caught fleeting images of... nothing, it was too vague. I pried my tight fingers off the knob. Dylan started to ask what was wrong, but I just shook my head. It was probably just the Tokyo Sky Tree effort messing with my head. Nothing to worry about.

Dylan opened the door and we entered the "dining parlor", which was a large, luxurious space that had a crystal chandelier dangling from the ceiling and the most refined stuff you can picture, and then some. Mr. Pierpont was dressed in normal clothes, off duty from business meetings at the moment. He was reading a newspaper, and I could see the cover: MYSTERIOUS CHILDREN SAVE TOKYO. So conspicuous. Max was _not_ going to be happy.

Mr. Pierpont finally recognized us and stood to bow to us like we were royalty. I'm not gonna lie; it was pretty awesome. We grubby fugitives never get bowed to! He smiled his charismatic, model smile and motioned for us to take a seat at his table. "Welcome, welcome. What can I get you? My chefs can make anything in the world for you. Just say the word."

Dylan and I looked at each other and said at the same time, "Toast."

Mr. Pierpont looked slightly annoyed that we weren't ordering diced-whatever-sausage-infused-with-essence-of-somewhat- with-something-sauce. What can I say? When you're a birdkid on a mission to save the world, sometimes you just want the simple things. It's better than nothing, which we're used to. Plus, I grew up with Iggy's cooking, and I don't care if you graduated from the best French chef school in the world, your food will never, _ever_, compete with Iggy's.

We ended up wolfing down toast, eggs, orange juice, the works, while Mr. Pierpont gushed over us. "It's an honor to meet you at last! I have been following you like you were my favorite team in football! (A.N. Americans, he's referring to soccer here.) Ever since the rumors began over a decade ago that there were experimental humans with special abilities, I was hooked! All of you, you're so fascinating! Did you know that I actually based my latest fall line of clothes off of you? I had an incredible dream one night about six winged children with colorful feathers floating away in the air, and it took off from there! No pun intended, of course."

Man. And they say _I_ talk a lot!

At one point, Dylan had the guts to interrupt Mr. Pierpont in his "riveting" tale about the last time he was in America, where he made a visit to every city we had ever been sighted in. "Sir, how much longer until we reach our destination?"

"About five more hours."

Now I was confused. "Wait. Where are we going?"

Dylan told me, "I called Max. She said to meet her east of LA." I could tell by the slight inflection in his words that Dylan had a feeling something bad had just happened. I hoped everyone was doing okay.

Mr. Pierpont continued his extensive stories to pass the time, and slowly but surely, the five hours passed by. Finally, there was the crackle of quiet static as the pilot announced over the intercom, "Landing in fifteen minutes." The plane pitched down into a steep dive that worried even us bird kids, who weren't used to the motion of a jet.

"This jet has the latest technology in landing gear. It can land on a dime," Mr. Pierpont boasted proudly. Dylan rolled his eyes, and I kicked him under the table.

After a landing so smooth I hardly knew it happened, Dylan and I were escorted off the jet by Nino Pierpont himself. We set foot on American soil, on a secluded, private landing strip surrounded by dark, leafy green trees. I turned and looked at the richest man in the world with gratitude. "Thank you so much-"

He graciously interrupted me. "No, no, _I_ should thank _you_. If you hadn't been in Tokyo when you were, that glorious city would have been overrun by common thugs, and I would likely not be standing here before you know. Thank you both." Mr. Pierpont reached into his wallet that had no cash or credit cards - because, honestly, he probably hasn't gone into a real store in years - and pulled out two business cards. He handed them to us, and I cherished the hard cardstock in my fingers. He smiled down kindly at us from his upper stair. "If either of you ever have _anything_ you might need, do not hesitate to call me on my personal number. It's a special connection, so all conversations will be kept as secret as you like. I am eternally in debt to you."

I gaped at the business card in awe. Nino Pierpont's private number... Suddenly, I remembered something, and called out to him abruptly as he was turning to enter his jet again. "Mr. Pierpont? Could I... Could I have your autograph?"

He looked very flattered, and pulled out a pen to sign my outstretched business card. The pen was a fountain pen, black with gold accents. Nino Pierpont was engraved into the hearty metal, and a clean, even stream of black ink with miniscule gold flecks trailed from it as he signed his large, perfectly loopy name. "There you go, young lady." I stared in awe at what must have been the world's most amazing autograph ever. Mr. Pierpont was now inside the cabin of his jet and was pulling the door closed when I saw something fall to the ground, gleaming in the afternoon sunlight.

"Wait! Mr. Pierpont! You dropped your pen!"

He chuckled and replied, "Don't worry about it. Keep it. I have thousands more on hand! Goodbye, children!" He waved, and before we knew it, his plane took off and disappeared into the sky. Dylan whistled a low whistle.

I hurried forward eagerly and reached down for the exquisite fountain pen. Another memento of the great experience. But as soon as the tips of my fingers brushed against the pen, my knees buckled, and I sank into the grass.

Through my abilities to read people's energy through objects they touched, I was catapulted into the past. I could see a conference room. At a whiteboard, I recognized a very young Brigid Dwyer marking quickly on a whiteboard with green, blue, and red markers. She looked about six, the same age as Angel when she started acting evil... Anyways, this was clearly an event in the past. Marian Janssen, the director of ITEX, was lounging back self-importantly and smirking her coy smile. I was startled to see Jeb sitting next to her, but recalled passively that he was a whitecoat at this time. There was the Uber-Director in his Plexiglas boxes, Gozen standing guard behind him. Those dudes always freaked me out. Mr. Chu, the weirdo who kidnapped Dr. Martinez a few months ago, was sitting primly in his chair, glaring at the rest of them. Dr. Gunther-Hagen was there too, talking excitedly to Jeb across the long, mahogany table.

It was like the world's most evil get-together. Literally every baddie we'd ever met was there. I didn't even remember some of them. But I knew we had met them all. There was only one foe missing, one we hadn't seen yet, but we knew existed: the One Light.

The tiny Brigid, red hair in two pigtails held by large pink bows, turned around and pointed at the complicated flow charts and arrows on the whiteboard. "As you see, if we follow this sequence through and successfully develop the abilities in the theoretical "hybrid experiments", we can prepare them for the future." Brigid smiled confidently. "It all works out flawlessly. Mr. Pierpont, would you care to do the honors?"

To my complete shock, Nino Pierpont, _the_ Nino Pierpont, stood up. His fingers rubbing along the metal fountain pen absentmindedly. He cleared his throat, and stated, "I hereby declare the beginning of Project: Avian. In fifteen years, six months, we will enact a new world movement, led by our alliance - the Doomsday Group." The evil party applauded, and Nino Pierpont bowed. The scene shook violently, and I blacked out, a searing horizontal line stretching across my vision and exploding in my mind.

After a while, I came back to consciousness, Dylan kneeling by me, shaking my shoulders hard and calling my name. I groaned as the throbbing in my head faded away. He helped me up to a sitting position, and I hugged my knees. It... couldn't... be...

"Nudge! What's wrong? What happened?" Dylan asked anxiously.

I was breathing shallowly and slowly turned to face him. "Dylan," I whimpered, and steadied my voice. "Dylan, Nino Pierpont... He's... He's the..."

"The what?"

I leaned in and whispered in his ear slowly. "Nino Pierpont is the One Light."

A.N. Yup. In later chapters, I will explain this, but if you think about it, it makes sense. If I get three reviews, I will make sure to post another chapter soon. Just let me know if there's something I got wrong, something you like/hate in particular, or any suggestions at all, just please please PLEASE review! ICBN


	15. Tracks

A.N. So yeah, I should be studying for Exams, but I just don't feel like it, and it's a Friday night and I've done a lot of thinking these past few weeks. Here ya go!

_At the very last second, the haze that covered my vision cleared, and I saw a monstrous train in front of my face. I was hit with enough force to splinter a glacier and faded away._

**Chapter 15: Tracks**

Max POV

"Gazzy? Gazzy, where are you?" Gosh, not again. Iggy and I combed the forest around the campsite, our night vision barely highlighting the stark, concealing trees. We had picked up some footprints leading away from the campfire, but the leafy forest floor erased all traces of where the Gasman had gone.

About twenty yards away, I saw Iggy tense up a bit. "Notice anything?" I called, but he held up his hand to signal me to be silent. He was listening. I listened as well; nothing out of the ordinary...

Then, out of the blue, there was an ear-splitting boom, the howl of a train, a slight tremor in the earth beneath my sneakers, and a loud thud. That couldn't be a happy mixture. Iggy instantly sprinted off in a direction in the woods, and I followed. We finally stumbled upon the edge of the woods where, several yards ahead of us, there roared a long cargo train.

Not anything unusual, unless you mention the small, tattered sneaker of a missing-and-assumed-dead girl lying at the side of the tracks, and... blood stains on the metal rails. No...

Iggy, clueless, yelled over the noise of the train, "See anything, Max?" I didn't answer. I couldn't answer. I simply stood there beside him, seeing the blood... Iggy caught on that something wasn't right about the situation. He placed a hand on my shoulder and hesitantly asked again, "Max?" My gosh, Gazzy wasn't... he couldn't have... but...

The last car of the train passed, and a silence hung over the clearing beside the tracks. And just across the tracks, there was a gash in the dirt. It looked like one of those rows that farmers plow whenever they plant seeds. It was pretty deep. And at the end of the gash, buried in dirt, I could just glimpse a strand of blonde hair, waving slightly in the nighttime breeze. Blonde hair... Wait a minute.

I shrugged off Iggy's hand in my haste and stumbled in a daze over the metal rails. Kneeling beside the dark pile of dirt, I reached out my hand and brushed away the gravel and chunks of dried mud.

It was Star. I didn't know why she was there or why she was covered in mud. All I knew was that Gazzy was gone.

After all I had done to try and help him, all the talking I had done, the hugs and the comfort... I failed him. And if I couldn't even save a grieving nine-year-old boy who I had lived with his whole life, how could I possibly save the world? How could I be expected to-

"Is the kid okay?" Star mumbled, groaning in the dirt. Iggy, finally hearing someone's voice, rushed over and helped her to her feet.

"What happened?" he questioned. Star wobbled and fell back again, clutching her legs. Her shoes were busted, and I could actually see the bottoms of her feet through the worn soles and socks.

"The kid," she murmured, and her head glanced at me. Her eyes were exhausted, but concerned. "Did I make it in time?"

"What do you mean?" I asked urgently, my hopes rising yet again. Probably not a good idea, since my hopes usually get trashed. Star began explaining slowly, tiredly, about what Ratchet saw-

**Hope is a very valuable tool, Maximum. Never underestimate it.**

_Are you kidding me? After all this time I could have used some guidance? All this time I had been alone and hopeless? This entire time worrying about Gazzy, and my family, and saving the world- You decide to show up NOW?_

**There are times when you must guide yourself. You must be independent.**

_Whatever, Voice. I don't have time for this. Whenever you have something useful to say, like, I don't know, what happened to Gazzy, feel free to speak up._

The Voice practically sighed out loud in my head. **You will not lose your family anymore for the time being, Maximum. At this moment, you need to start expanding your horizons.**

_That's complete-_

**The Gasman is in the bush to your left.**

"And I reached out to try to get him, but I... did I get him?" Star whispered through half-shut eyes. I turned slowly to look at the bush the Voice mentioned. As I pulled apart the leaves and looked into it, I was stunned to see the Gasman, passed out, but alive.

"Found you," I mumbled to myself. Iggy heard me, though, and was obviously relieved. He quickly pulled the young boy out of the shrubbery and started checking for injuries with his careful fingers. He winced as he reached Gazzy's ribs, and I got worried all over again. "What now?"

"His ribs, Max. They're all... broken. Bashed inwards. His lungs and his air sacs are compressed, so it's really hard for him to breath. Star, you must have slammed into him really hard."

Star, drifting away again, asked simply, "He's alive?"

Iggy nodded, a satisfied, non-smirk on his face, "Yeah, he'll live. Thanks, Star." But she had already fallen unconscious again.

Just then, my phone rang. It was Nudge, or actually Dylan, who was calling. I put him on speakerphone as I pulled Star out of her self-made ditch. "Hey. How are y-"

"Max, we're with Fang and the others. Nudge is fine, for the most part, but we need to meet up."

"I completely agree. We all need to talk. Because," I exchanged a glance with Iggy, even though he couldn't see my face. "Because I have a plan."

Man, it had been awhile since I said those words. Iggy cracked a classic Iggy-grin, and I couldn't help smiling too, despite the two people lying on the ground in front of me. "This has gone on long enough. We need to save the world, and quick."

A.N. Yes, not much happened, besides I decided to keep the Gasman alive. For now... I have an idea of how this story is going to go, so I will try to upload chapters a bit faster now. Like I said before, I have Exams and stuff coming up, so I probably won't upload in a little bit, but I will have a real storyline now. Review, review, review!


	16. Cause

A.N. Okay. Only five more days of school, and then FREEDOM! And three of those five days are half days, so I might update a little bit more often (hint hint). Here's a question: Who's your favorite character so far? Hope you enjoy!

"_Because I have a plan." Man, it had been awhile since I said those words... Iggy cracked a classic Iggy-grin, and I couldn't help smiling too, despite the two people lying on the ground in front of me. "This has gone on long enough. We need to save the world, and quick."_

**Chapter 16: Cause**

Dylan POV

I couldn't wait to see Max again, and I could tell that Nudge felt the same way. Her hands had been trembling slightly ever since she let go of the Tokyo tower, and her forearms were visibly tense from the pressure of the skyscraper over a day ago. I hoped it wasn't permanent. Behind her usual happy, carefree face, I could see the pain, the worry, anxiety, and shock at our newest discovery that might just change Max's entire approach to saving the world.

I called Fang's cell phone, and Kate picked up, her small voice sounding thin over the line. We agreed to meet up with Fang's gang and the rest of the Flock at a small diner in Nevada. At this point, it was important to keep moving, because, for all we know, we could be hunted at any second.

We finally coasted into the parking lot of the Big Eighties Diner in the late afternoon. A few minutes later, a huge van screeched into a space. Fang, Maya, Holden, Ratchet and Kate climbed out of the vehicle, but Star was nowhere to be found. Fang pointed at the diner wordlessly, the two of us not exactly on the best of terms. Together, we strolled into the mostly vacant diner, as if we were a mob of young gangsters.

And then, she stood up from a booth in the far corner of the restaurant. Her blonde-streaked brown hair was frizzled slightly, her dark chocolate eyes glittering with intense thoughts. You could see the gears churning in her head as she worked through problems, finding a good solution. Maximum Ride. Beautiful as ever.

But her mind clearly wasn't on relationships right now, as she skipped the whole "despise Fang and/or Dylan" phase and cut straight to the chase. "Great," she said firmly in her steely hard voice that I love. "We're all here. Well... for the most part." She motioned for us all to gather around a table. Star was lounging backwards in her seat against the wall, draining an extra-large smoothie and glancing at Gazzy every now and then. The Gasman was slumped forward, his forehead resting on the tabletop, with traces of blood staining his clothes. What was going on? Max didn't say anything specific over the phone, so Nudge and I were clueless as to what had happened while we were in Japan.

"Okay, first things first," Max commanded. No one objected to her taking the leadership role; she was the girl who was destined to _save the world_. "Progress report. Fang, what's up with your team?" Surprisingly, Max didn't refer to Fang's gang as "the wingless wonders" like she usually muttered under her breath.

"Not much. We struck out in England, stowed away on a plane, and... borrowed... the van to get here. Ratchet saw Gaz in trouble when we were in Nebraska, and Star took off to help him as fast as she could. How did that work out?" Fang was very talkative lately.

"You tell me," Star sighed. "Little dude here won't say anything useful."

"She wouldn't do that to me," Gazzy whispered quietly to himself, head still on the table. Star raised her eyebrows as if to say, _see what I mean?_

"He just needs time," Iggy defended. "Cut the kid a break."

Star rolled her eyes. "Whatever. We don't have time for breaks. This is the end of the world as we know it! Plus, I completely wore through my brand-spanking'-new sneakers and nearly shredded my quadriceps to save his sorry butt. I want to know why." Direct to the point. That's Star for you.

Max pursed her lips, mumbling, "Later. We'll deal with that later. Right now, we focus on the mission. Dylan, what happened after we left Tokyo?" Everyone's eyes were on me now, except for Iggy, who was blind, and Gazzy, who kept muttering nonsense.

"Some cranes finally arrived to relieve Nudge from holding up the building. And -you'll never believe this- Nino Pierpont was inside-"

"Wait. Did you say _Nino Pierpont_? As in, rich enough to buy _China_ Nino Pierpont?" Holden was getting very interested in this conversation.

"That's the one. Anyway, he felt so grateful that he wasn't dead that he offered us a ride back to America on his private jet." I could hear groans of jealousy. _Yeah. We bird kids are so lucky, what with being stalked and assaulted, enduring injuries to our enormous wings, and best of all, riding in first-class planes around the world with our arch-enemies!_ I continued, "Apparently he's a big fan. Even bothered to sign an autograph for Nudge." Nudge blushed. I paused, attempting to build suspense for the ultimate bit of news for the day, and watched Max amusedly.

Max pondered this a moment, her fist pressed against her mouth and her eyes running side to side as she considered the possibilities. "Did you find anything out?" Here we go.

"Well, as a matter of fact-" I started, but Nudge kicked me under the table so hard that I winced. I glared at her, wondering what her problem was, and she subtly shook her head. _Okay..._ "We... didn't find... anything." I looked down, unable to look Max in the eye. I don't like lying to anyone, especially her.

Luckily, Max knew that we were holding back information, but she let it slide, sending us an expression that meant _I'll talk to you two later_. "Moving on..." she said. "We need to seriously think out what our strategy is. So far, we know that the enemy has tons of soldiers, armed, and willing to kill civilians. They won't hold back." Max reached under the table, riffled through her pack, and pulled out an old, stained, worn and torn map of the world. When she spread it out, it covered nearly the entire table.

When she whipped out highlighters, pens, and markers, Iggy whistled, sarcastically impressed. "Wow, Max, all prepared for the occasion, are we?"

"I'm rolling my eyes, Ig," Max muttered half-heartedly as her eyes roamed the sea of tiny dots that marked the cities of the earth. "Where the heck is Paris?" she frowned to herself. Kate promptly pointed to where France was on the map, and Max marked it with a huge, red, dot sticker. "And, um, Tokyo?" Kate again helped her mark a red spot on Japan. Max wasn't at all embarrassed by her lack of knowledge of world geography. I knew that the Flock had limited school experience, but this was ridiculous.

"So, somehow, the Doomsday Group had to move from Paris all the way to Tokyo." Max drew a huge yellow arrow between the two dots. "And in only a few days. That's hard to do."

Ratchet stepped in. "They were also going to hit London, in theory." Max marked London.

Maya examined the map, an exact mirror image of Max's pensive face. "All of these 'target cities' have a lot of people. It's almost like the Doomsday Group is trying to..."

"Kill all the humans," Kate finished quietly. A silence filled the diner, as we were the only customers, and we weren't eating, so the waitresses and chefs were smoking outside. "B-but... they wouldn't actually _do_ that... would they?" Her large dark eyes looked around for agreement.

"Face it, Kate," Star snapped at her friend. "The world's not filled with rainbows and ponies. People kill people. People want to take over the world. And in this case, the enemy is trying to do both."

"This reminds me a lot of..." Nudge started, and Max, Maya, Fang, and Iggy all continued, "the By-Half Plan."

"Wait, the what?" Holden asked.

"You know ITEX? They were trying to kill one-half of the world's population and have the remaining survivors become mutants." Iggy shivered slightly as he spoke; the experience must not have enjoyable.

"Could an ITEX leader could be behind all this?" Holden asked.

"Possibly," Max replied slowly. "But this just doesn't seem like their style. They're more, I don't know, 'Let's inject them with a serum that will slowly break down their bodies so that we can observe their painful deaths'. They're typically way more science-y than the Doomsday Group's massacres with guns and explosions. But... anything's possible, I guess." I felt guilty, knowing already who the One Light was but keeping the others in the dark. (No pun intended.)

"Until we figure this out," Max declared, "we need to have a game plan. Here's what I've been thinking: we have three teams. One team is going to be like our 'Offense' team, where they will make sure to fight the Doomsday Group wherever they resurface. The second team will be 'Defense' and work on saving the people, raise awareness about what the Doomsday Group is really all about, stuff like that. And the last team will be the 'Trackers', who will search for extra information behind the scenes, and keep an eye out for Jeb, my mom, Ella... and even Angel."

The Gasman's head jerked up from the table at the sound of his sister's name. Now that I noticed it, the kid had been trembling the whole time, and it looked like he had been crying hard. Whatever happened when he was "in trouble" must have really shaken him up.

"So, the question is, who's going to be on what teams?" Fang murmured.

"How does this sound? On Offense, we'll have Kate, Fang, Star, and Dylan. Defense will be me, Holden, and Maya. Trackers will be Nudge, Gazzy, Ratchet, and Iggy."

There was a pause, and then the table exploded in arguments. Fang was refusing to work with me (and I really didn't want to see his face), Holden was complaining about missing all the action, and Maya was fuming mad that she was stuck with her original. Iggy, however, looked pretty happy to be on Trackers. Probably because he would get a chance to look for Ella.

Max looked at the chaotic fighting around the table for a moment, and then shouted over the noise, "Guys! Chill out!" The arguments died down to low grumbling. "Look, this isn't permanent. Let me spell it out for you.

"Fang and Dylan, you're two of our best fighters. I'm sorry if you don't get along; oh wait, I'm not sorry at all. You're just going to have to deal with it! Kate, your strength will really come in hand, while Star, you're the only one who can beat the brainwashing. You four are our best bet.

"Maya, my personal mission is to _save_ the world, not _battle_ it - even though I really want to - and I honestly need your help to do that. Plus, if we're on a different team than Fang and Dylan, we won't get distracted. And Holden, you have to admit that you aren't that great of a fighter. You know it's true.

"Nudge, I know you want in on the action, but you need a break from that. Plus, you'll be really valuable for finding stuff out by hacking and tracking people through their objects. Ratchet and Iggy, your super senses will make it hard for anything to stay a mystery for very long. And Gazzy, honey, you just need to stay out of harm's way for the time being. We can't afford to worry about you.

"So guys, this is not a discussion. This is not a debate. This is how things are. Live with it or not, but we each have our own strengths and weaknesses, and we have to accept that. And in the end, we'll meet up again and reevaluate our strategy. But for the time being, we are one. United. We're the... the... what should we call ourselves?" Max paused in her powerful speech and looked around at us.

"Freak Power," said Fang.

"Mutant Madness," Iggy snorted.

"The Avengers," said Holden, and we all stared at him like he was an idiot. "Right. That's already taken. Sorry."

"The Protectors?" said Kate hesitantly. "Wait... that's what they've been calling the Flock lately, right?"

"How about... the Cause?" Nudge piped up? "Like, 'Join the Cause to save the planet' and stuff like that?"

"You know what, Nudge? It works. From this moment on, we're the Cause." And Max and the 'original Flock' stacked fists. The rest of us looked at each other and stacked our fists on as well. Finally, we were getting somewhere. **(A.N. Read the Author's Note below.)**

A.N. Whew. Okay, so I did not actually think of the Cause, that's actually what Max is calling the anti-Doomsday Group movement (check out maximumrideblog on Tumblr from March 29, 2012).

**I did a lot of research up to this point, and found out this list of the ten big questions that will be answered in James Patterson's Nevermore that will be released on August 6 and that I will attempt to answer in this FanFiction story:**

1) Who will Max finally choose - her beloved Fang or steadfast Dylan?

2) Who is _The Voice _Max hears in her head?

3) Which member of Fang's gang will betray him?

4) Whose side is Angel really on?

5) Is Jeb trying to protect Max and the Flock? Or is he working for the bad guys?

6) Will Iggy ever regain his sight?

7) Why did the Flock evolve to be able to breathe underwater?

8) Is the Apocalypse the result of human folly and hatred, a disease, a natural disaster, or an invasion from outer space?

9) Can Max really save the world?

10) And the most important question of all: WHO WILL DIE? (You didn't think it would end without someone dying, did you?)"

So yeah, really excited! Please review about what you like, what you don't, who's your favorite character, what you think will be the answer to any of the above questions, etc. I'm all ears!

ICBN


	17. Disclosure

A.N. Whoo! I'm on a roll! Thanks to Fiona Siona for reviewing! In hindsight, I realized that most of the POVs have been either Gazzy or Max, and even though they're pretty much the main characters in this story, it might be getting a little old. So I'll try to spice it up with some variety! Plus, as far as I could tell, JP gave Fang's gang relatively NO personality, so I'm going to try to create some. Hope you enjoy it!

"_...From this moment on, we're the Cause." And Max and the 'original Flock' stacked fists. The rest of us looked at each other and stacked our fists on as well. Finally, we were getting somewhere._

**Chapter 17: Disclosure**

Iggy POV

After we finally figured all that jazz out, we split up to start working together as "teams". I'm just going to say something right off the bat: unfortunately, no matter how organized Max is, no matter how many highlighters, maps, and thought-out strategies she pulls out... her plans almost _never_ pan out the way she thinks. I had a feeling that this would turn out the same way.

First of all, she's sticking Fang with Dylan and trusting them to fight the enemy, and not each other. That's a lot to ask from two love-struck, hormonal, conflicted, teenaged mutant bird boys who like the same girl.

Ha. Like I'm one to talk. I barely held myself back from squealing when Max said I was on the Trackers. Maybe I would be the one to find Ella. I missed her. A lot.

And then there's the whole Max versus Max II - sorry, _Maya_ - situation. Was Max asking for a black eye? Maybe Holden could break up their fights; he was virtually indestructible after all. He could be their personal punching bag so that they could take their anger out on someone else.

But on the plus side, the Trackers were a perfect team. Nudge, who could hack anything - and any_one_, in a sense- with me, who could make bombs and pick locks and feel fingerprints and awesome stuff like that. Ratchet, too, with his super-sight and super-hearing. And I would still get to keep an eye on the Gasman to make sure he didn't do anything stupid like that stunt on the train tracks. He still wasn't saying anything about what happened back there.

_Still_, I thought, _the Trackers are flawless. We'll all get along, and find Ella, and Dr. Martinez, and Ella, and Jeb, and Ella, and Angel, and did I mention Ella? Nothing could go wrong_.

Boy was I clueless.

Almost as soon as we all gathered around a table in the middle of the diner, me practically dragging Gaz along, Nudge and Ratchet were going at it.

"What do you mean, I'm lying? I would never lie! Especially not to Max," hissed Nudge in an outraged, high-pitched voice. Well, that's not exactly true. I could think of several occasions where she didn't tell Max the truth. But I just listened to them bicker as we waited for our food.

Ratchet was groaning and I could picture him pressing his headphones tighter against his sensitive ears. "Keep it down, will ya? I'm right here! Your voice is like a pair of needles in my eardrums." _That's_ a new expression. I usually just went with, "My ears are bleeding."

"No, I won't keep it down! What makes you think I'm lying?" Nudge sounded really nervous, almost like there was some sort of secret she was hiding.

Ratchet said in a casual voice, "I'm just sayin'. Dylan was about to say somethin', and you didn't want him to. It sounded like you were keepin' somethin' from the rest of us. And if we're gonna work together and save the world, we can't afford secrets. Just sayin'."

Nudge huffed and muttered, "It's none of your business."

"Fine, fine," Ratchet shrugged it off. So far, he seemed like a real laid-back dude. In a way, I was kind of jealous. He was like the new-and-improved version of me. I thought my hearing was special a year ago, but not even I could hear whispers from miles away like him. And while I was blind as a bagel, he could see the Gasman standing on some tracks in California from freaking _Nebraska_. I would kill a million Erasers just to see, period. But on the other hand, I could fly, and he just... couldn't.

The servers finally came, and the scent of glorious food made my mouth water. We all started tearing into our many triple-patty burgers each while shoveling fries into our mouths at the same time. The servers sniffed in disgust at our obvious lack of table manners. To the staff at the Big Eighties Diner: you try being a bird kid during 2012. Trust me, it's not easy.

After a few minutes, I could feel Ratchet's stare. "What?" I asked, wolfing down my burger.

I heard him shake his head as he said, "Sorry, dude, it's just... so weird... seeing you... eat like you can..."

I swallowed and finished for him, "Like I can see?"

"Yeah."

"I've been blind for almost ten years now. Of course I can feed myself."

"Well, yeah, but..."

"It's called adapting, dude. When you have zero parents and no one to teach you this stuff, you still have to learn it. You either starve, have Max spoon food in your mouth like a baby, or figure out how to eat. It's that simple." Ratchet was silent. These were the basics. I didn't know it was that surprising that I could function like a normal mutant being. Wait 'til he found out I can cook, too.

Maya POV

Max and I were having a stare-down across the table. I knew her hardened brown eyes like they were my own, mostly because they actually _were_ my own. We peered into each other's pained, guilty, scarred soul, daring the other one to break the connection first. In my peripheral vision, I saw Holden, slouching in his chair and slurping his Coke through a straw, looking pitiful as ever.

He spoke up, "This is great and all, but shouldn't we start thinking about what we're going to do as _Defense_?" He spat the word like it was an insult. Which, in his mind, it probably was.

Max nodded at me, and we postponed the competition for now. She narrowed her eyes at the small teen. "I don't like your attitude. I want to be in the battle just like you, but-"

"Then why don't you? I mean, I won't get hurt! At least, not permanently. And you two are just as good of fighters as Fang and Dylan are. Maybe even better!"

I spoke up. "It's not about who can fight, Starfish. It's about who should be going face-to-face with the enemy, and who should be saving the innocents. If anything, the best fighters are on Defense, because that's what we're going to do: fight for the people who can't."

He grunted and slurped his soda again. "I hate this. Nothing's changed at all."

Max looked at him wordlessly for moment. "Starfish, what was your life like before this whole mess started?" she asked, gesturing around the diner.

His pale green eyes flickered towards her, and then looked down. "At home? Pretty good, I guess, compared to the rest of you. I had both parents, and two older brothers. They're in college right now. We lived in Wisconsin. I was pretty good in school, read a lot, played the tuba in the marching band." I held back a snicker. He looked like he couldn't even lift a trumpet, let alone march around with a tuba.

Max leaned forward. "Then what happened."

Starfish squeezed his eyes tight. "I was walking home last winter, and I tripped and fell in the snow. I was thinking, _No problem, it happens all the time_. But then they jumped on me, and tranquilized me or something. And there was... a helicopter, I think? And next thing I know, I was in a lab." He shivered, and Max and I did as well. Labs were bad memories for every mutant.

He went on. "I was strapped to a table for days, and they alternated between injecting these liquids in my veins and... cutting me. They would think that a drug worked, so they'd take it a step further and hack off a finger. When it didn't grow back like they thought it would, they tried another drug. Before I knew it, I had lost both arms, and most of one leg."

Holden's voice cracked a bit, but he swallowed and kept going. "Nothing worked, and they were about to 'terminate' me. But then this one doctor snuck in at night, messed with some chemicals, and injected me one last time. I didn't see his face. This drug made me pass out until morning, and when the lab workers came back the next morning to kill me, they saw that all of my limbs were back. I was pretty happy. Until they started cutting me again and again, testing this new drug that had been left behind for them. Each time, it worked, but I still had scars." Holden rubbed his arms that had huge, dark lines crisscrossing from his hands up to his shoulders. "Finally, they dumped me out of the facility. They had what they needed, so they literally tossed me out into a dumpster. I was too weak to get out of there, so I rode along with the trash in a garbage truck and stumbled out of the landfill that afternoon."

I gulped a big bite of cheeseburger and asked, "So they just let you go. Just like that?" That didn't seem like something a whitecoat would typically do.

Holden shrugged, running his hand through his dirty, chestnut-colored hair. "I was useless to them. I was lost in a different city, so I wandered around and started begging and living in alleyways, even got mugged a few times by Ratchet's gang over there." He frowned in the direction of the gangster mutant across the diner. "I snuck into a library after I overheard people talking about a blog by some guy named Fang who thought he was a mutant, and since I didn't have anything better to do, I checked it out. I realized that there were other kids just like me out there, so I contacted him, and he told me where to meet, and here I am."

Max sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Whitecoats. You either hate them, or you love hating them. Well," she met Starfish's haunted, pale face, "something good came out of this. You're not alone anymore. The rest of us have been through the same experiences as you, more or less. And you've got a purpose for your gift. You can protect others now."

Holden shook his head irritably. "I'm so weak. I can't even defend myself."

Fang POV

I didn't want to look at him. With his perfectly blonde Bieber-hair. His supposedly dashing turquoise eyes. His singing voice that Max probably thought sounded like a thousand angels in a heavenly choir. And his happy-go-lucky personality, programmed to love the girl I've known our entire lives. Dylan sickened me. He was too good to be true, pretty much a Marty Stu. _Hey, that rhymes_, I thought vaguely.

Kate was picking through the menu. "Are there _no _vegan dishes in this place?"

Star, the champion of eye-rolling, did so one more time. "Get over yourself, queenie. Suck it up and eat what you can get like the rest of us."

Kate's dark, worried eyes flashed at Star. "First of all, you're such a hypocrite. Telling _me_ to get over myself? Look in the mirror sometime. Second, I've vowed to never eat any animal products since I had the choice. I will not let fifteen years, seven months, and twelve days of self-discipline go to waste! If I give in now, every moral I have will be meaningless!"

"You're overreacting."

"And you're indifferent."

"Why do you have to be such a goody two-shoes?"

"Why do you have to be such a snarky, rich princess?"

"You're impossible!" they said at the same time. I couldn't believe they were friends.

Dylan, apparently, was thinking the same thing, as he mumbled confusedly, "Do you two hate each other or something?"

Kate and Star glanced at each other and burst into high, tinkling laughter. "As if!" Star snorted.

"We're best friends. We've been together since the fourth grade."

"We were even kidnapped together by those jerks that made us freaks." They smiled at each other, and Dylan and I finally looked each other in the eye. For once, we could agree on something. Girls made _no _sense.

A.N. So there's that, to set up the group dynamics and start to build some backgrounds and personalities for these characters. Next chapter, they'll officially split up. Should I start with the Offensive, Defensive, or Tracker teams? I'll try to even out the POVs more, and we haven't heard from Holden or Star yet. Plus, some more characters will be introduced in later chapters (cough cough Ella cough cough). So what did you think? And I'll keep posting JP's ten questions below this until the actual NEVERMORE comes out this August. My goal is to finish this story by then. What are _your _answers to the questions?

10 Questions of NEVERMORE

1) Who will Max finally choose - her beloved Fang or steadfast Dylan?

2) Who is _The Voice _Max hears in her head?

3) Which member of Fang's gang will betray him?

4) Whose side is Angel really on?

5) Is Jeb trying to protect Max and the Flock? Or is he working for the bad guys?

6) Will Iggy ever regain his sight?

7) Why did the Flock evolve to be able to breathe underwater?

8) Is the Apocalypse the result of human folly and hatred, a disease, a natural disaster, or an invasion from outer space?

9) Can Max really save the world?

10) And the most important question of all: WHO WILL DIE? (You didn't think it would end without someone dying, did you?)"

ICBN


	18. Jeep

A.N. Awww man! I am starting to have some serious doubts on finishing this story before the release of the OFFICIAL novel on August 6th. Partly it's because I keep forgetting about FanFiction (hard to do, but I manage) and partly because I've been very busy with an online history course. HOWEVER. If you readers remind with... oh, I don't know... a nice little **review** every now and then... that would be a BIG help. Because every time I get a review, my mind starts rolling on Maximum Ride once more, and I have a new motivation to update. Just to let y'all know. ;) Thank you to readingisdabest, NudgexWink, Fiona Siona, and demigodflock for reviewing! You rock my world! (R.I.P. Michael Jackson)

**IMPORTANT AUTHOR'S NOTE AT THE BOTTOM!**

So here's the way-past-due Chapter 18! I made it extra-long as an apology chapter. 8 pages on Microsoft Word! (By the way, I love Fan Fiction's new feature: Story Covers. **I made a cover for Nevermore. Tell me what you think!**)

_I didn't know it was that surprising that I could function like a normal mutant being. Wait 'til Ratchet found out I can cook, too._

**Trackers, Chapter 18: Jeep**

Nudge POV

My nerves were buzzing. Ratchet was getting really close to the truth. I didn't reveal the identity of the One Light to the rest of the Cause. But it was for a good reason! I got this strange impression from the table my fingers were resting on during the meeting. Ever since Tokyo, my "sixth sense" had been acting up, probably because my shoulders, forearms, and fingers were still trembling and vibrating from holding up the Sky Tree. So I couldn't get a good read on the emotions and images that constantly flashed through my head.

One thing I was positively certain of was that someone in our little "band of merry mutants", as Max would say, was a _traitor_. Someone was on the DGers' side. For all I know, it could be someone in the Flock - though that was _very_ unlikely - so I had a feeling that the stuff I found out about Nino Pierpont needed to be kept a secret.

I knew that Max could keep a secret, though. After lunch, Max called the Cause together one last time, and we all said our goodbyes and split off. I stayed, though, and pulled Max around the corner of the building.

"What is it, Nudge?" Max asked, and I felt that little pang in my stomach at the thought of leaving my big-sister-slash-mother-slash-mentor again.

I was about to whisper, but then I realized that there were mutants in the vicinity with a knack for eavesdropping, so I switched to the Flock's secret language. It had been a long time since we'd used it, so I was a little rusty, but I managed to get the message across.

"Max, Dylan and I found out who the One Light is," I hissed urgently.

"Really? Go on, spill it!" Max's eyes were wild with the idea of gaining at least a little understanding in this chaos the DGers had created.

"Nino Pierpont."

There was silence, and then Max coughed. "I'm sorry, can you repeat that?"

"It's Pierpont, Max. I felt a pen that he touched, and... everyone's been in on it. All the bad guys we've faced all our lives. Ter Borcht, Anne, Brigid, even Jeb at the time, ALL of them helped start the Doomsday Group fifteen years ago. The Flock is part of this plan called Project: Avian. And Nino Pierpont is in charge of it all!"

Max was at a loss for words. "I just... I can't believe it. He's helped us all this time, with the trip to Antarctica, the private jets... He even brought you and Dylan back from Tokyo. He just doesn't seem like a bad guy."

"I've been thinking about it Max. He's a very, very, very... _extremely_ wealthy man with pretty much the entire world at his fingertips. Every resource on earth is open to him. He's powerful. He was probably the main sponsor for ITEX in the first place. I don't exactly understand his motivation at the moment, but he definitely has the money and the ability to make all this happen."

Max still shook her head. "Sorry Nudge. I just don't see it. I'll think about it more, but-"

"Max. Seriously. It's him."

"We'll see," Max said, with a tone of voice that signaled the end of the conversation. I sighed, and she grinned and hugged me. "Nudge, can you promise me something?"

"Yeah, Max?"

"I want you and Iggy to talk to Gazzy and get him to spill everything that's happened this past week. What happened when he and A... when he snuck into the DGers' headquarters, and how he ended up trapped in all those bombs, and especially what happened at the train tracks."

"Well, Max, he doesn't seem like he's in a talking mood."

"You're smart; you'll figure something out. Promise me?" I looked up into her eyes and realized that Maximum Ride was desperate. I understood her logic; she had already lost one of the two blood siblings, and she didn't want to lose the other. Gazzy and Angel were like Max's children.

I nodded. "I promise Max."

"Be careful."

"You too." We hugged again, and then I rejoined Iggy, Ratchet and the Gasman.

Ratchet looked majorly confused. "What was _that_ all about?" he asked. Yes! Our secret language worked!

I sniffed and avoided eye contact with the dangerous-looking teen. "None of your beeswax." I put my hands on my hips in an effort to assume the level of responsibility that Max had. "Now. Are we ready to go?" I unleashed my tawny-golden wings and prepared to run into a takeoff.

Iggy cleared his throat and gestured to a silver jeep parked behind us that just screamed the term _hotwired_. "Um, Nudge? Sorry to burst your bubble, but... we're driving." My wings sagged down, the tips of my feathers brushing over the ground in disappointment.

Driving stinks.

Gazzy POV

...

...

... It was a silent road trip. Ratchet, the only one of us able to somewhat drive, was focusing on the road and trying to find an on-ramp for the nearest highway. Iggy was riding shotgun, slouching in his seat with ear buds in, listening to current events to see if we could get any leads for the whole end-of-the-world affair. Nudge was seated next to me, alternating between studying her fingernails and staring out the window, doing anything to avoid looking directly at me. I don't think she liked me very much.

And I couldn't really talk if I wanted to; Iggy told me that my ribs were pretty much shattered and I shouldn't try to stretch my lung capacity or something like that.

How could my baby sister have done that to me?

We rumbled along the Nevada roads in this somewhat awkward silence until Nudge, of course, finally had enough. She turned toward me and blurted out in typical Nudge Channel style, "Gazzy, you look terrible. What the flock happened?" I noticed her eyes were still aimed off to the side, avoiding me.

I glanced down at myself. I did look bad. My cheap sneakers - with Velcro fasteners because Max wanted to make sure our shoes were quick and easy to slip into on the run - had lost their past awesome colors and just barely managed to cover my feet with shredded rubber and frayed cloth. My jeans were scuffed and stained, and the knees were just hanging threads, my skinned knees from the explosion in Paris still in the healing process. My shirt, once covered with cool soccer graphics, had blood stains, dirt stains, grass stains, and pretty much another other stain you can think of. I had a feeling my face wasn't looking too good, either.

I sighed, and my ribs grinded against each other, making me grit my teeth to keep from yelling. "She was there," I mumbled simply. "She was _right there_ in front of me. I touched her. I talked to her. But she..."

"Who?" Nudge asked in her annoyingly concerned voice.

"Angel. She hated me." My voice broke, and so did my sternum, I think, so I just left it at that.

Ratchet piped in, "Dude. I dunno what ya _think_ ya saw back there, but _I_ saw ya standin' on the tracks like a suicidal idiot."

Iggy said, "According to Star, you just stood there like a statue and didn't even try to jump away from the train. If she didn't yank you out of the way when she did..." Iggy closed his eyes.

Nudge was confused. "Wait a second. Fang's gang was in Nebraska. Gazzy was in California. How _did_ Star get there in time?"

Iggy grinned. "She broke the sound barrier. Meaning she ran over 760 miles an hour, supersonic speed. Looks like you've been outdone in "Amazing Feats of Mutant Ability" for the week, Nudge!"

Nudge frowned. "Didn't know it was a competition."

Ratchet chuckled, finally finding an on-ramp and flying down the highway way faster than the speed limit. "Even if it's the end of the world, _everythin's_ a competition."

Iggy narrowed his eyes at Ratchet. "If this whole thing is a competition, we Trackers would be in the same division, huh?"

Ratchet shrugged. "Ya talkin' 'bout competin' in awesomeness or in sensory ability? 'Cause either way, it's obvious I'm the Olympic champion."

Iggy shifted in his seat. "Is that a challenge?"

"Yup."

"Okay, you two are _both_ going down," Nudge declared.

Ratchet snorted. "Please. You're like, three years younger than us, and a chick. Don't think you're gonna win any prizes." Oh dear. He did _not_ just go there.

Nudge was visibly getting riled up. "_Excuse me?_ Sexist pig! If you think you can just..." She started her famously-long rants (which probably _could_ break a world record for most words per breath), and Ratchet's eyes grew wide at the verbal attack from the preteen in the backseat.

Friendly banter like this actually took my mind off of Angel. Until now. Darn.

I finally just closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep.

Ratchet POV

I have to say, growing up where I did, I've seen a _lot_ of weird stuff. I mean, you would not _believe_ how many people pick their noses when they think no one's looking. Unfortunately, I'm always looking. I _see_ everything. I _hear_ everything. More than I'd like to.

Sometimes it comes in handy, like when I'm in crowds and can spot whoever has the most cash in their wallets... perfect for pickpocketing.

But most of the time, I have to walk around like a sheltered dork with earmuffs and sunglasses on all the time. I've learned from experience that if you _try_ to look cool, you send off the opposite message. For example, sunglasses make me look like I'm trying to look cool, when really, I'm _way_ more awesome without them.

I _was_ thankful for my senses when I spotted the little dude on the train tracks the other day. I could tell that he was really shaken up about something, and he kept muttering, "She hates me. Why would she do that to me?"

I take it he's not handling his sister's death very well.

Star had been pretty freaked, too, last I saw her. I saw her shoes, or what was left of them, and had to go out and buy another pair for her because they were so trashed. She was actually panting, which is a shocker, considering how friggin' fit that chick is.

I found an on-ramp for the highway and soon we were zipping along in our SCHWANKY jeep at over a hundred miles an hour, listening to "Call Me Maybe" for the _billionth_ time that day. (Seriously. Hasn't anything good come out in the past month besides that freaking catchy song? It's driving me insane.)

Soon, both Nudge and the Gasman were snoozing in the back, so it was just me and my new blind homie.

"So," I muttered, scanning ahead several miles to see where our next exit would be. "Let's see who's winning the Heat game." I spun the radio dial to a sports station, and we listened to the game in silence. We both grinned when LeBron made an apparently huge slam dunk. "You like the Heat?"

Iggy smirked. "Yeah. Mainly James, though. The dude's like my idol."

"Same here. Wait," I just realized something. "Can you even play ball?"

I tensed up when the kid next to me cut his clouded blue eyes towards me. It gives me the willies, how it seems like he can see right through you. He gave an exasperated sigh and rolled his eyes. "Yes. I can play."

I started to ramble, like I always do whenever I'm confused. (Which isn't very often, by the way. Just to make sure you knew that.) "But how is it possible? I mean, you can't even see the ball!"

Iggy slowly smacked his head on the dashboard repeatedly. "Dude! I explained it to you before! Just 'cause I'm blind doesn't mean that I'm an... invalid or something! I can hear where other people move, feel vibrations in the ground where the ball bounces, stuff like that."

"Alright, alright, I gotcha. Are you good?"

Iggy snorted. "Better than you, I'll bet."

I, of course, took offense to that. "Sorry, man, but I'm definitely way better than you could ever hope to be."

He got this smile on his face, like he knew stuff and was only playing with my head. "You wanna bet on that?"

Naturally, I was about to yell, "Heck, yeah!" But then I noticed something. Several things, actually.

Iggy was nearly _seven_ _feet_ _tall_. Literally. He downplayed it by slouching and ducking his head sometimes, but this kid was freakishly tall. I was under six feet. And while Iggy was thin, he was wiry, like... like a basketball player. I, on the other hand, was more stocky. Bulky. He was nimble, I was not. He was superhumanly strong and fast, I was not.

He would cream me in a game. So, I humbly said, "Nah, that's alright." He nodded and sat back again.

We sat in a partly-awkward silence until the Gasman screamed and burst awake from his nightmare.

Let me tell you, screams are _torture_ to my ears. So I swerved and nearly ran the entire jeep off the road, but managed to wrestle the car under control, wincing as I felt my eardrums pounding. _Please don't pop, please don't pop_, I thought to my ears desperately.

Iggy was turned around and talking calmingly to the Gasman. "Hey, Gazzy. It's fine. Everything fine. We're right here, Gazzy. You can chill out." His voice was like warm milk to the nine-year-old in the back, relaxing him to quietness. He's a natural with kids.

Nudge, on the other hand, was buzzing in her seat. I glared at her through the rearview mirror, warning her to watch herself. The Gasman was at least a little unstable. She nodded, but clearly had a mission on her mind as she asked Gazzy directly, "What was it?"

The tiny blonde dude's pale blue eyes were enormous, and his arms were clutching his chest desperately. _Broken ribs_, I reminded myself. His breathing was shallow as he hissed, "Mark. It was Mark."

Mark. That DGer from Paris that stuck the Gasman and his sister in the underground bomb trap.

Iggy's face was understanding, but curious. "How about you tell us the whole story? Then we can help you, Gazzy. When did the trouble start?"

The Gasman's blue eyes widened even farther. "It all started when Mark attacked Angel with a hot poker."

A.N. So there's my first touch on Ratchet. I just read the first dozen or so chapters of JP's Nevermore, and it doesn't follow my plot AT ALL. Which is fine with me. **If you've read the Nevermore sneak preview, let me know what you thought of it!** I'd love to discuss it with y'all!

**IMPORTANT! I need your input as a reader. Here's my plan for the next several chapters of this story:**

19. Gazzy shares what actually happened after Chapter 67 in ANGEL, where he and Angel are alone with Mark.

Then, **I need you to choose which you would rather read about next: Offense (Dylan, Fang, Star, and Kate) or Defense (Max, Maya, and Holden)?**

20. Offense/Defense Part 1

21. Offense/Defense Part 2

22. Defense/Offense Part 1 (whichever's left)

23. Defense/Offense Part 2

24. Four quick POVS from our MIA characters (Ella, Jeb, Dr. Martinez, and Angel)

25. Nino Pierpont's POV

After that, well, I haven't decided yet. But I have started to plan out the big, final, EPIC BATTLE TO THE DEATH! Because, you know, a Maximum Ride novel can't end without one of those!

**PLEASE REVIEW! :D August 6****th**** is coming fast!**


	19. Mark

A.N. Thank you readingisdabest, demigodflock, Fiona Siona, and MaxRideLuver02 for reviewing and sharing your opinions! Here's Chapter 19!

_The Gasman's blue eyes widened even farther. "It all started when Mark attacked Angel with a hot poker."_

**Chapter 19: Mark**

Gazzy POV

This was a painful trip down memory lane. It's hard enough, forcing yourself to relive what may be one of the worst experiences in your life all over again. But I also knew the ending. What I had done to my sister. And... what she had tried to do to me.

I normally like to joke about serious stuff, try to make it so that the pain doesn't hit home for the rest of us. I try to lighten the mood. I challenged myself to find the funny side of any situation. Angel would always say that I was ridiculous, making fun of ter Borcht and the whole "I vill now destroy de Snickuhs bahrs". Max said we were laughing - literally- in the face of death.

I know better now. I know that death is not funny at all.

I snapped back into reality and looked at my friends' curious faces, waiting expectantly for me to start. I took a deep breath, and began explaining what really happened in Paris...

_Flashback_

Angel walked off down a dark street, and instantly, I felt that pang of fear for her. Angel was reckless, always had been, and didn't always consider the danger in doing stuff. This time, though, I was ninety-nine percent certain something bad was going to happen if I wasn't there.

I started to sneak off after her, but Max grabbed the hood of my jacket and dragged me backwards. "Whoa there, squirt." She spun me around to look at her. "Where do you think you're going?"

I gulped. Max can be pretty intimidating, especially when she's hyped up on adrenaline and two dozen French chocolate chip cookies. "I should go with Angel, Max."

She shook her head. "Gazzy, she has it under control."

_No she doesn't_, I thought, but said instead, "Wouldn't you feel better knowing I was with her, than having her join the Doomsday Group... all alone?" I topped off my argument with the Bambi eyes Nudge, Angel, and I all share- which have never failed as long as I've been alive - and distracted Max long enough to twist out of her grasp and ran after Angel down the street.

I remembered Angel telling the rest of us about the DGers needing young children, so I looked around for what could make me look younger, since I look around twelve, even though I'm barely nine. _Ice cream_. Yum, and what 'little kid' doesn't like ice cream? I quickly snatched a pre-wrapped cone from behind the ice cream cart without the owner noticing, ripped off the plastic covering, and started licking it, tracking Angel's cute blonde curls about half a block in front of me.

She turned down an alley, and I panicked and sprinted after her. She was talking to this girl named Toni and this other dude, and I stepped forward to join them. Angel, of course was annoyed and spoke to me through my mind, which I was pretty used to. Apparently, my name was Andrew, and we were a couple of cute little blonde kids wanting to join the One Light because we were "special". Angel spread her wings for proof, and I instinctively glanced around in a 360 to make sure no one was watching. Then I reminded myself that wings were a good thing to show people, in this case.

Toni led us into this secret hideaway door that led us into... dun dun duuuun... the Doomsday Group's Paris Headquarters. Let me just say, these people are sick and messed up.

This one room, get this, had kids actually doing office work willingly. All of them, working like bundling flyers was the greatest job in the world. Well, almost all of them. This one kid was bashing his head into the wall, which looked like it really hurt. Toni assured us that he just needed to "trust the One Light" or some creepy mumbo-jumbo like that.

Together, Angel and I were taken into this room where this greasy guy named Mark sat in a giant chair. I mean, this guy's whole presence just _screamed_ evil. He threatened Toni in that typical dictator-like "I'm more powerful than you, so if you don't toe the line, I'll vaporize you with my wanna-be mind powers" persuasion tactic.

Toni shoved us forward even closer to Mark, and I winced at his rancid breath that floated over us. He seemed pleased. We probably looked like fresh young chickens, waiting to be served in his next fast-food meal. He actually says, "That's very good. Your wings will bring great strength to many of our children." If that doesn't say _Kentucky Fried Chicken_, I don't know what does.

If this guy was trying for the Guinness World Record for creeping little kids out of their minds, he was doing a good job. But he had to top it off with a grand finale.

He pulled an actual hot poker from the fireplace and started advancing on Angel, chuckling in a low, satisfied tone. "Let's see if we can trust you." I kept thinking, _He wouldn't do it. He wouldn't do it._

Angel warned me in my head, _Gazzy, don't move. We need him to trust us._

But he was so close. Finally, he did it. He swiftly, suddenly swung at Angel's face with the poker.

Not knowing what else to do, I shoved her to the ground, falling forward with the momentum to take the blow. The piping hot metal steamed painfully against my neck and left shoulder, and I held back a scream. Mark looked slightly surprised that I was getting burned instead of Angel, but still dug the shaft of the poker into my flesh. Angel was screaming now, and I tried to move his arm away from me, but he had pinned me against the wall with his meaty hands. This guy was creepy strong, like, Kate strong, and I started to fade into unconsciousness from the pain of his forcing the flaming metal against me. I stared into Mark's dark eyes, and I realized that he was fine with killing me because he couldn't trust me to die for the Cause on my own.

Mark was ready to kill me, right then and there.

"Stop!" Angel screamed at the top of her lungs. That snapped Mark out of his malicious reverie (And Max thought that I had a small vocabulary... Please!) and he stepped away... thankfully taking the poker with him. I slid to the floor against the wall, carefully touching my neck to see how bad the burns were. I couldn't tell, but I did know that it hurt like HECK! I tried not to moan out loud, though. Angel was doing damage control.

"Sir, we want to serve the One Light," Angel hastily rambled. "We do. We do, with all of our hearts. But you see, we want to do it together, as a team. Together," Angel met my eyes. "Together, we are the strongest pair you could ever wish for. We can do so much good for the One Light, if you'd only have us work, together."

Mark returned to his big comfy chair and leaned back in it, tapping his chin thoughtfully. While he was considering this possibility, Angel helped me to my feet, and I clutched her hand, holding her slightly behind me.

_Why did you do that? You could have died, Gazzy!_ Angel whined in my head.

I replied, _You're my baby sister, Angel. If I ever have a choice, I'll always take the pain for you. Okay?_

There was a pause, and Angel whispered quietly in my head, _No one would care if I died. Everyone hates me. They'd be glad if I was dead._

I tensed up and glared at her. _Don't even say that. No one hates you, Angel. You're a hero. And if you died... I couldn't stand it. I couldn't bear it a second if you were dead, Angel. Promise me that you won't die._

Angel frowned. _I..._

I was desperate now, and sweating slightly from the heat of the fireplace and from my burn. I squeezed her hand tighter. _Promise!_

Angel obliged, _I promise, Gazzy._

That calmed me down for a bit, and it was just in time, because Mark had made his decision. "You're right, little one." He grabbed each of our shoulders in his enormous hands, his palm pressing down on my burn and causing a fresh wave of pain to roll over me. He steered us out the door and down a hallway. "You two do seem to function as one unit. Together, you will do a great wonder for the One Light this very day." By now we were at an elevator. It was definitely old, and rusted red in several patches. Mark shoved us forward into the elevator and soon we were dropping down. The doors slid open to reveal... darkness. Angel and I exchanged an uneasy glance. This could _not_ end well.

Mark whipped out a large hand-held floodlight, clicking it on to illuminate what seemed to be a large, underground sewer. Well, that explained Angel's wrinkled nose. I guess it smelled pretty bad, but I wouldn't know for sure because I am happily immune to stenches in general. It's a gift.

We walked quickly through the sewer, Angel and I trying to avoid being dragged through the questionable puddles every few paces. We came to a large cavern, filled with stuff that made me grin in delight, and made Angel cringe in disgusted fear.

Two words. Plastic. Explosives.

It was, of course, a dream come true for me at the time. I didn't know what havoc it'd cause in less than twenty minutes. Mark yanked open the metal gate and led us through the glorious minefield, plopping us down in the very center of the pile of potential bomb material. He motioned at a timer that sat against one wall of the sewer. _Eighteen minutes and counting_.

"When those eighteen minutes are up, a bomb will detonate." Yay! "The explosion will connect to these plastic explosives, which will amplify the explosion." Double yay! "The explosion entirely demolish the city plaza above, granting the One Light's wishes to the thousands sitting above our very heads at this moment. If all goes well, there won't be a single survivor." Um, not yay. "Furthermore, the explosion will release toxic gas into the sewers, ending the lives of countless others throughout Europe."

Okay, now I was freaked. This madman was about to include us in his murderous plans for thousands, maybe millions of people. I slowly started to get into a fighting position, not wanting to disturb the touchy plastic explosives surrounding us, but then he pointed, what else? A gun. In our life's version of rock-paper-scissors, gun beats about five years of mixed martial arts training. Mark motioned for me to sit back down. He started backing away. "You two are serving your predestined purpose for the One Light. It will set you free. Your ends will bring freedom to the world. To our children. Revel in the glorious of life after life, of the good you will do for the world."

_Angel?_ I asked wordlessly.

_Yeah, Gazzy?_

_This guy's certifiably insane, isn't he?_

_Yes, yes he is, Gazzy._

"The glory won't just end in Paris, though," Mark continued. He smirked and slowly shook his head. "No, it will endure. A worldwide revolution. Countless will be enlightened to the truth of the One Light. The globe will be bathed in a cleansing fire, eliminating all impurities. A new earth will arise from the ashes of the old. The One Light will rule with its everlasting goodness and grace over the rest of us, the blessed who can pass on to the Promised Land, the perfect land. And Doomsday? Doomsday is simply a gateway. A gateway to a much higher, greater potential. And all who stand in the way - _all impurities, imperfections, the majority of the nearly __seven billion__ members of the flawed pathetic human race_ - will be wonderfully destroyed. Life will be enhanced, as will the beings who will inhabit the new earth. This is only the beginning. The entrance for Doomsday, the cleansing day, the day of awakening and realization, of understanding, of death that leads to a new and better life. Doomsday, may its glory arrive soon!" Mark finished his monologue, his expansive arms raised out to the sides, his head tilted backward, the floodlight at his feet shining upward, casting a ghoulish shadow over the underside of his face. He was panting in his delirious exhilaration, the very picture of insanity. And then he laughed. Not a typical evil "Mwahahaha" laugh, but a humored laugh, like he had heard the best joke of all time. A joyful laugh.

Yup. Definitely insane.

We held each other's hand as the deranged cult leader turned and ran with sudden urgency back to the elevator, the door to the gate failing to shut properly.

Soon, it was just us, all alone in a damp, dark Parisian sewer, surrounded by an enormous network of bombs and combustible materials, and only ten minutes on the clock.

I had to get us out of here before all heck broke loose. I eyed the gate. "We could carefully step over this stuff and go through the gate-"

"No, it's not worth it, Gazzy. I'll contact Max and get her to come down here. She'll know what to do." Angel looked miserable, like she had finally realized that her "fool-proof" plans were never that dependable. I hugged her close to me, smoothing her blonde curly hair. She rubbed her temples, sighing, and closed her eyes. I continued to stroke her hair, my chin resting on her head, glancing around at the mess we were sitting in. And deep down, I came to this sudden, horrible yet certain conclusion.

One of us wasn't getting out in time.

I was determined that Angel was going to get out, whatever it took. Finally, Angel's small shoulders relaxed a bit, and she murmured, "Max is on her way."

Okay, time to cheer up the mood. "Can I take, just, like, fifteen of these little pieces? Only fifteen? I would love to stick them in some bombs Iggy and I have been designing. Talk about bang for your buck!"

I expected Angel to go berserk on me making fun of our precarious situation, but she just shook her head. She understood that this was my way of coping. "No."

"Just ten."

"No."

"Five."

"No."

I started to reach out playfully, as if I were to pluck a chunk of plastic explosion from the mounds around us. Angel slapped my hand away. Suddenly, she perked up. "Max!"

I whirled around as best I could while sitting still as possible. Dylan, with his eagle eyes, immediately saw my huge black burns on my neck and shoulder, but I hurriedly jerked the hood of my jacket up, hiding the red and black tissue with the fabric and trying not to wince. I didn't want Max to worry about me; I wanted her to worry about Angel.

Soon, Fang joined us, as we discussed our options...

_End of Flashback_

"And, well... You know the rest," I mumbled quietly, slumping back as visions of red and white flames, choking, thick black smoke, Max's shrieking, chunks of flying concrete, Fang's pale look of fear and remorse, all dancing across my eyes in rapid succession.

Silence filled the car.

Ratchet was still at the wheel of the jeep, driving straight and steady on the highway to our destination, Topeka, Kansas. His shades and headphones were on, but I saw that his mouth was drawn in a tight white line. In front of me, Iggy's head was pressed against the window, his hand rubbing his face. At my left, Nudge's knees were pulled up to her chin in her go-to horrified position, her arms covering her face as she shivered.

Ratchet cleared his throat. "That's... um... that's real messed up." He pulled down his shades and looked back at me through the rearview mirror with his sympathetic hazel eyes. "That's real messed up, Gazzy," he repeated. "I'm sorry, man."

I nodded thanks. No one else said anything. Ratchet didn't feel the pain as much Iggy, Nudge, and I did. He'd only known Angel for a couple weeks or so. But he did feel sorry for us, that was obvious.

I sat back in my seat, fingering Angel's sneaker, which Max had handed back to me after the whole train incident. Speaking of which...

Ratchet coughed, and spoke again. "So, um... what... what happened at the train tracks? What _really_ happened?"

I sighed slowly, trying to control my breathing to keep from sobbing outright. Ratchet seemed very macho - just like Fang - and I didn't want him thinking I was a _complete_ baby.

"I saw Angel. She really was there. She was standing on the t-train tracks, but I didn't notice that, I guess. She w-was..." I searched for words to explain what my sister was at that moment. "She was an _angel_. She said... She said that she was dead, and... a-and that it was my fault, and I should join her. And then I saw the train coming, and it hit me, but I g-guess it was really Star who hit me. Next thing I know, Angel's gone, I'm sadly still alive, a-a-and no one cares that Angel's-" I broke off, crying. Nudge reached over to rub my left shoulder. The same one that the poker burned. I cried even hard, and Nudge was weeping loudly, too. Soon, Ratchet had to pull the jeep over because everyone was weeping.

"She's gone!" I wailed, the same words hitting me over and over again like the relentless punches of an Eraser.

Before I know it, Ratchet's opened my passenger side door, unbuckled me, and pulled me out of the vehicle. He stood me upright on the pavement. It was mid-afternoon, around two or three, and blazing hot, so we were sweating and crying. Terrible.

I felt like my heart was breaking all over again. I just stood there, battered and bruised, crying out for my lost sister. I killed my own sister. I nearly killed Jeb, and I killed Angel. I killed over one hundred and fifty people, and I killed Angel, my baby sister!

Suddenly, I choked silent, and so did Nudge and Iggy, because the unthinkable was happening.

Ratchet, ex-gang member Ratchet, super-cool, super-macho Ratchet, Mr. Dangerous Ratchet was...

_He was giving me a comforting hug._ I stopped crying not because I felt better, but because I was stunned. Stunned that a guy so tough and hard and "manly" like Ratchet would stoop down onto his knees and give a nine-year-old a hug. And then, for some reason, I smiled. And so did Iggy and Nudge. They came over, and we all sniffled and wiped our noses and smiled and hugged.

After a few minutes, it got super-hot, so we climbed back in the jeep. Ratchet opened the cooler in the back and handed out ice-cold water bottles, and the four of us chugged them down in seconds, feeling the good feeling of a brain freeze.

"Now." Ratchet turned to look us each in the eye. "We all good?" I exchanged glances with Iggy, and with Nudge, who finally looked me in the eye for the first time in over a week. We nodded. All good.

"Then let's get this show on the road." Ratchet returned his shades to his face, pulled back on his headphones, and put the car back in gear.

I felt much better. Not completely perfect. But better.

Better is good.

A.N. So that's my take on what Angel meant when she thought, "I can't ever tell you, Max... Not ever. Just that now I know for sure what kind of evil they're capable of." Plus, I wanted to show Ratchet's... ahem... _softer_ side and slowly rebuild the Gasman's life again. He's been depressed long enough.

**So what did you think? R&R please! **

ICBN


	20. Isolation

**A.N. Thank you Fiona Siona and Leafpelt159907 for reviewing!**

**So while Gazzy's been mourning the deaths he thinks he caused and blaming himself for everything that's happened, what has Angel been doing? Sipping lemonade in a chair by a luxurious pool at a five-star resort?**

**Well, not quite. Here's what our little mind reader has been doing since the end of ANGEL...**

_No one hates you, Angel. You're a hero. And if you died... I couldn't stand it. I couldn't bear it a second if you were dead, Angel. Promise me that you won't die._

_I promise, Gazzy._

**Chapter 20: Isolation**

Angel POV

The silence was unnerving.

I had honestly never experienced complete and total silence. Even when I was "alone", I would always hear the faintest whispers of someone else's thoughts, or my Voice's opinions and advice entering and exiting my mind at will. Never had I felt such complete silence.

I was alone, truly alone, with only my thoughts to keep me company. It was a terrible feeling.

I tried again for the millionth time to move around and take a look at my surroundings, but again my wings, arms, and legs stayed limp. I felt strands of my hair floating around me, as if I were an astronaut in outer space or something. My eyes saw nothing; I felt as blind as Iggy, but deaf, too.

The world was a big blob of nothingness.

I squeezed my eyes tighter together, thinking back to what had gotten me in this situation.

We were in the sewer tunnels in Paris. The bombs. The timer. Gazzy had said that he got them, and we were running. Running, and... I had tripped. I'd fallen to the ground. I had called out for the others to keep going. They had continued on, and suddenly I'd realized that I couldn't get back up. My legs had been frozen, as if I were paralyzed on the spot. I'd tried dragging myself along with my hands and elbows, but I was too slow...

The explosion came. An enormous, blazing fireball, raging toward my face, and then... blackout.

The next thing I knew, I was strapped to a hospital bed, a tube down my throat and more tubes and wires hooked up to me in various places. Several little pangs of burns and wounds tickled me all over, but they didn't bother me much. I heard the quick beep beep beep of the heart monitor somewhere off to the side. I was completely frozen, now unable to even twitch a cheek muscle.

A voice, calm and soothing, spoke, "It's okay, Angel. You're among friends. Even admirers. We're going to take care of you."

_Take care of me, my butt_, I was thinking. I tried to think, to read anyone's mind, but my mind was fuzzy, probably from all of the freaky drugs they were pumping in my system.

"You see, Angel, it's important that you recognize your superiority. It's part of your destiny. You have to take strength from that knowledge." The unknown voice was flattering me, but it was working. I had always known that I was the best. It was about time someone admitted it.

"When you truly understand your superiority, you'll be able to leave your humanity behind, once and for all. Humans aren't needed for the New World." Oh, gosh, not the whole humans-are-weak shpeal again. It had gotten old the first few times, with ITEX's By-Half Plan. "But superhumans are. Beings that are more than human, better than human. You'll see." _I can't see anything!_ I thought desperately.

I hated this. I wanted to be back with the others, in the E-shaped house, in the mountains, playing air tag with Gazzy and-

Gazzy.

Had he made it out? Had anyone made it out of the explosion alive?

_Had I caused even more destruction?_

I successfully managed, in my paralyzed state, to squeeze a tear out. The voice, so irritating that I wanted to plug my ears from the sound, continued to murmur, "Don't worry, Angel. You're very special. We're going to take good care of you."

I endured hours of this garbage, trying to tune out the words of encouragement and the beeping of the various machines. I was worried about Fang and Gazzy. Especially Gazzy. I thought back to when we were in Mark's office, and he made me promise not to die. If only I had held him to the same promise.

The more I thought about it, the more I was convinced of the truth. Gazzy loved me so much, he probably would have come back for me. I was rescued by these annoying whitecoats, but no one had done the same for him. Fang was a survivalist and a very swift flyer; he and Max and the rest of them would have made it out alright. But Gazzy was smaller, his wings were slower. And he was dedicated, so protective of me. He would have been killed in the explosion, trying to get to me. It was certain.

Gazzy was dead.

That thought circled around in my brain for a while as I tried to understand its meaning. Sure, I had hated the idea of Max dying, my mother and mentor, the one I always tried to imitate, tried to emulate as a leader. I was the one to share the news of Fang being the first to die, and seeing him flatlining in Dr. Gunther Hagen's lab was horrible to watch.

But I had never considered what a world would be like without Gazzy. He was just... there. A constant. He was the first face I saw when I opened my eyes in the School. He watched over me even when we were moved to join the rest of the Flock in our dog crates. He had carried me in his arms when we flew away from the School because my wings were too small and underdeveloped. Gazzy had set up my bed and tucked me to sleep every single night for as long as we lived in the E-shaped house. He played with me when no one else would. Every morning until I was five, he preened my feathers for me and showed me new tricks in the air. When I caught the bird flu two summers ago, he was there at my bedside, feeding me Iggy's special homeade soup and making me laugh with his insanely accurate impressions of the rest of the Flock. I had never really been in a world without him somewhere nearby... until recently.

Oh, my gosh. Had I taken advantage of my brother? And now he was gone. He was killed, because of his loving and caring for me. I was the reason he was dead.

I lay there on the bed, shocked, chewing on this new revelation, not reacting at all when they wheeled me somewhere else. They carefully lifted me up and placed me upside down in a container. I hung there, suspended in this blackness, guilt eating me up from the inside.

For what seemed like forever, I floated underneath the surface of this weird substance, like a liquid, but thicker, holding me steady. I could breathe easily, my gills not even needed. Then I realized where I was.

I was in an isolation tank. Like the one Max had been trapped in when her clone, Maya, had replaced her. This felt exactly how she described it. A big, vast... nothingness. Max said that she had stopped her own heart and breathing long enough to convince the whitecoats she was dead, but I was too pained, too frozen, too tired to even try it.

Eventually, two paddle-like tools reached down into my tank, clamping on the sides of my head and staying there. A sudden flash of piercing, blinding light jerked me to attention.

They were showing me something. A scene. It was our secret place, the small clearing in the bramble bushes of the woods near the E-shaped house. The place where Gazzy taught me about his favorite bugs and about why the sky was blue and nature science stuff like that. And Gazzy was there now, sitting crisscross-applesauce across the clearing from me. I smiled at him, but he didn't smile back. His eyes were cold, calculating, wary of me. I had seen that look on him a few times before, when I had messed up and convinced the rest of the Flock that I was a traitor.

But this time was a little bit different. His eyes were narrowed and his eyebrows were drawn together, his mouth twisted into a mean snarl that he usually only reserved for fighting evil henchmen or imitating an Eraser's voice. It didn't look like he was joking this time, though.

Deep down, I had a vague feeling that this wasn't really happening, it was all an illusion, but at the moment, I was overjoyed. "Gazzy! You made it out! You're alive!"

To my surprise, he rolled his eyes and huffed. Usually, I was the one who did that to him. "Honestly, Angel," he patronized me, his voice gruff and unforgiving. _What was going on?_ I wondered. "For a mind reader, you're really dumb. Obviously, I'm not alive. Once again, you got all the luck."

"What?" I wondered, confused. Gazzy had never, ever been so mean to me. I was mean to him, sometimes, but he always had a grin and a laugh every time I saw him. That, or a horrified look on his face. Depending on what _I_ was doing at the time.

"Max and Fang liked you best. Iggy liked you best. You were Nudge's best friend. Everyone loved you and your cute, little baby face. It seems like destiny loves you best, too. And what do I have?" Gazzy's gaze turned fierce, angry. "I have nothing."

"Gazzy? What are you saying?" I didn't get it.

"Life's always been that way, Angel. No matter what I said or did, you always upstaged me, showed me up. You were Max's favorite, she even said so sometimes, and I heard it. After all the things I did for you Angel, fate saved your life and took away mine." Gazzy stood and walked forward, towering over me. A gust of wind rustled his blond curly hair, sweeping it across his darkened face. "Nothing was enough for you, Angel. Especially not me."

What was this? It was like a bad dream. Nothing made sense! "I loved you, Gazzy!" I objected.

Gazzy sneered. "You had an odd way of showing it then. Making fun of me, counting me out, always taking, but never giving back. You hated me, Angel, admit it."

"No-"

"You hated me! My very existence disgusted you, remember? You told me so!"

I didn't know what to say. Practically everything he said was true. He had always been the bigger person, letting me take credit for a lot of things, supporting me. And he got no honor for it.

"Well, at least my existence won't bother you anymore, huh?" He ducked his head, turning his back on me. "Thanks to you, I don't have a world to go back to. You'll go on and live a long, happy life, without me around to drive you crazy. Because of you, I'm dead now." Gazzy whipped out his wings, and the sun shining down into the clearing illuminated them. They were big and beautiful, a dark reddish-mahogany brown, with silvery gray highlights on the tops and tips that glittered in the sunlight.

All of a sudden, there was a loud boom, and a roaring wind flew through the clearing, filling his wings with air like the sails of a ship. And everything, all the grass, the flowers, the stumps, the trees, everything was set ablaze. The crackle of the burning forest accented my ears. Gazzy looked over his shoulder at me. "Hope you can live with yourself, Angel," he muttered, and then his wings caught fire. The fire spread to his clothes, his hair, his face. His crystal blue eyes were brimming with unshed tears, and then they, too, changed to glow a bright white.

He was like a phoenix, a flaming majestic bird, dying before me. I screamed out as he sank to his knees.

I screamed long after the vision went dark and the whitecoats' cold gloved hands were lifting me out of the tank. They pumped Valium and other drugs into my arm, but I still shrieked, hearing my voice echo in the tiled room.

_What on earth had I done to my brother?_

**A.N. So yeah. Looks like Angel's having some bad hallucinations as well. Those whitecoats seem to love messing with people's minds. The question is: **_**why**_** are they doing this? That will be answered later.**

**Please R&R! What did you think? Anything you hated? Suggestions? Thoughts about what happens next? I'd love to hear from you!**


	21. Stakeout

A.N. Yeah, yeah, I know I said I'd finish this story before the real Nevermore came out, blah blah blah. But let's face it. Life happens. And I happen to have a very busy life. And an acute case of chronic procrastination. So, new plan: I will write this story to the best of my ability, taking as long as necessary, making it as long as necessary, and doing my best to make sure that, above all else, the ending with be satisfying and NOT RUSHED. What do you think? To hold myself to this, **I will not read Nevermore until I finish this story.** I've already owned this book long enough to memorize the exact feather pattern on Max's wings on the book cover, but I still haven't opened up to the first page. (Even though I've already read the first sixteen chapters in the online sneak-peek.) Let's hear it for self-restraint!

For the record, I've been waiting over **eighteen months** for this book to come out! I may not be able to keep this promise. ;)

Anyways, here's Chapter 21, beginning with the POV of an Offensive team member who hasn't been featured in this story yet. Hope you like it!

_I couldn't believe they were friends. Dylan, apparently, was thinking the same thing, as he mumbled confusedly, "Do you two hate each other or something?" _

_Kate and Star glanced at each other and burst into high, tinkling laughter. "As if!" Star snorted. _

_Dylan and I finally looked each other in the eye. For once, we could agree on something. Girls made no sense._

**Offense, Chapter 21: Stakeout**

Kate POV

Dylan, Fang, Star and I were scrunched behind a row of dumpsters. In Miami. Dressed as ninjas. Minus the throwing stars and bamboo poles. Those would just be overkill.

"Way to stereotype the Asian," I muttered under my breath. Star snickered lightly. Dylan looked apologetic, naturally, since he's pretty much the kindest person I've ever met. And Fang? It was like he was _born_ to be a ninja. Not that this was much of a wardrobe change for him. He wore these clothes every. Single. Day. But I'm sure he had a good reason for that. Some deep-down instinctive urge to blend in (sometimes literally)? Maybe to draw less attention to himself? Maybe black was just his favorite color? I won't judge.

Why were we in Miami wearing dark costumes behind garbage bins? Well, the first thing we did after we split away from the rest of the Cause was head to the local airport. There... we hit a dead end. Until Fang checked his blog, and got a hot tip that the DGers were planning a rally.

In Miami, Florida of all places. Star was the most excited because of the promise of a tan.

In a flash, Star bought the tickets and we were on a flight to the Gateway to the Americas. I noticed Fang was really squirmy. "What's wrong?" I whispered.

Fang shivered. "It's just... the only other time I've ridden first class was with... was when..."

I understood. "With Angel," I finished for him gently. He nodded, and his eyes - normally stone cold and emotionless - were unmistakably filled with guilt. It got me thinking. All this time, everyone had been focused on the Gasman, the nine-year-old kid who blamed himself for his younger sister's death.

But had anyone really thought of Fang? He was less demonstrative with his feelings, a very stoic person. He didn't really draw any attention to himself when he could help it, and he took care of everyone else before himself. And he didn't do pity well. But that didn't mean he didn't _have_ feelings. "Mr. Rock", as Max calls him, was human on the inside like the rest of us.

Well, he was only 98% human if you want to be literal about it. Then again, we were all diluted one way or another.

Had Fang been blaming himself for the Paris fiasco this whole time? I looked at Fang again with a new perspective. "You know, Fang, it's not your fault."

His eyes darted toward me, as if I had read his mind. He dragged a hand through his hair and sighed, rolling his eyes up to the ceiling. "Yes, it is."

I can be stubborn at times. With Star, you have to be. So I metaphorically rolled up my sleeves and got ready to argue. "No, it's not."

Fang glared at me and squeezed his eyes shut. "Yes. It's my fault. She told me so," he replied quietly.

I was confused. "Who? Angel? Whatever she said, it's not-"

"Not Angel." His eyes opened again and met mine, and I saw another flicker of guilt. "Max."

I remembered Max's reaction when Fang and the Gasman had emerged from the wreckage in Paris. She'd shrieked, _"How could you leave her?!_

Right there. Right there was a line that I did _not_ want to cross. I knew Max and Fang had had a deep, close relationship in the past. I knew the basic rundown: they met when they were toddlers, grew up in cages together, escaped together, grew up together, took care of the other kids together with Iggy when Jeb left, rescued Angel together when she was kidnapped the first time, saved the world numerous times together, and fell in love _together_.

Dylan may have been Max's perfect other half, but Fang was her whole, and she was his. You could even see it when they fought, the way they glared at her, like they had been in battles to the death and knew each other better than they knew themselves. Whether they liked it or not, they were still connected on a foundational level.

With this in mind, I realized that if Max had blamed Fang for the accident, even out of grief or a split-second impulse, then that would stick with Fang for a long time. And who was I to mess with Fang's head like that? Especially when we needed him to stay focused.

So, I changed the subject. "Star, did we ever tell Dylan and Fang our backstory?"

Star had been trying to flirt with Dylan. (Don't tell Max. He was very loyal to her and didn't budge a bit. And Star's my best friend. I don't want Max to kill her. Yet.) She glanced over at me, her blue eyes slightly less cold than normal. "No, I don't think we did. Wanna start?"

"Sure." I cleared my voice. I had two goals for this tale: one, to distract Fang and two, to pass the time on this five-hour flight.

"Okay, so Star and I met at St. Theresa Coudere Academy in New Hampshire in the fourth grade. Funny thing, though. At first, we hated each other's _guts_..."

_Flashback_

I was drowning in a sea of maroon plaid skirts, white blouses, black closed-toed shoes, and maroon plaid ties. The smell of perfume nearly made me pass out, and the roar of feminine chatter clogged my ears. My fingers gripped my notebooks and textbooks tightly to my chest as I slid along the wall, searching for my locker. For a girl who had been homeschooled for her entire life before this moment, this was torture. A terrible nightmare. My first day of Catholic school.

I finally spotted it. Number 623. My fingers fumbled with the combination lock. What was it, what was it? I desperately spun the dial while avoiding screaming teen and pre-teen girls left and right. Got it! I shoved my things into the locker and grabbed my lunch box. I mentally groaned as I slammed my locker door and followed the flow of the hallway to the cafeteria. If there was one thing I absolutely loathed as of that day, it was passing periods.

The herd of Catholic schoolgirls emptied out into the lunchroom and started filling up seats faster than you could say 'Our Father who art in heaven'. I felt like a number, and not a human being. I saw an empty seat at a table by the windows and sat down in it.

First mistake.

In the blink of an eye, a blonde girl with icy blue eyes appeared at my side. I mean, her eyes were literally so freezing cold when they looked at you that you felt chills go down your spine. Even if I were standing, she would have still been taller than me. She had perfect highlights and flawless skin. But at that moment, she seemed more like a bull, imaginary steam coming from her ears and her face turned up in a scowl.

"You," she said, her voice so sharp that I jumped with every word. "Out of my seat. Like, now."

I looked around at the cafeteria. There weren't any more decent seats anywhere. So, I said, "I was here first. Sorry." I gave her a small smile and started to unzip my lunchbox.

That was mistake number two.

She sniffed, rolling her eyes. "Who are you, anyway?"

I looked at her. "I'm Kate Tan Wei Ying." I held out my hand to shake, but she wrinkled her nose like I had just picked my nose with it.

"Oh, well lookie here, it's Kate Tan Wei Ying!" she mocked me in a nasally accent that was totally not mine. I didn't let it phase me though, just shrugged it off.

This bothered her, and the blonde girl hissed, "Do you have any idea who I am?" The attention of everyone in the room was on us now. Girls were whispering in each other's ears. I swear I saw some of them placing bets. But on what?

I looked her over. She had diamond earrings, the real kind, expensive-looking patent leather flats, and was that a Louis Vuitton purse on her shoulder?

This girl was rich, but I wasn't going to back down so easy. I said what may have been the boldest, rudest, most defiant statement in my life, "Someone who needs to find another seat."

Third mistake. Strikeout.

The cafeteria gasped and went silent. I nonchalantly picked up my soy yogurt and started to eat it. The blonde girl acted out, grabbing it from my hands, smearing it on my face and shirt, and actually kicking me out of my chair. I landed on the floor in a stunned heap, shocked that someone would actually do that. The blonde girl pulled out my Ziploc bag of carrots and emptied it out onto me. She followed up with my celery sticks and hummus, and topped it off with my bottle of cold, peach smoothie.

I was trembling. With anger? With humiliation? With disgust at my ruined brand-new clothes? I don't know. I simply sat on the floor, staring up at the cruel girl who was now sitting primly in my -no, _her_ - seat.

She peered at me from the corner of her eye. She smiled to herself, and knelt down to look me in the face. "You're obviously new here. For your information, my name is Star Harrington. And in the future, don't cross me. My father, like, owns this school. I can get you expelled. So take my advice, and just _stay out of my way_."

I stood to my feet slowly, dripping with orange-colored smoothie and sending the rest of my lunch raining to the tiled floor with a light pitter-patter. What do you say to that? I was a pacifist, dedicated to preserving peace and avoiding confrontation. And I was a sheltered nine-year-old girl. I didn't say anything, just shook my head in disbelief and left the silent cafeteria.

As I slammed the door to the bathroom stall and leaned against it, I felt tears prick at the corners of my eyes. I sniffled, and this burning hot feeling started to climb into my throat. It strangled me, engulfed me, hit the pit of my empty, hungry stomach. My skin flushed and I slid to the ground, sobbing. This new, unexpected feeling was hatred.

I _hated_ Star Harrington. Even more than passing periods.

_End of Flashback_

"Okay, Star, do you want to continue?"

Star grinned and elbowed me lightly. "You make me sound so evil!"

"You were."

Star POV

"Yeah, you're probably right. So let's see, Kate got served and I got my seat back..."

_Flashback Continues_

"You showed her, Star" my friend, Allie, said as she ate her Lean Cuisine chicken dish of the day.

"Totally! Like, who does she think she is?" giggled my other friend, Lindsey.

I felt like gloating, but something about that girl's expression stuck with me. It wasn't too out of the ordinary; I'd shown, like, the entire school who was boss at one point or another, so I was used to the typical glances of fear, respect, anxiety, etc.

But this girl, what was her name, Kate Something? This girl seemed stunned that someone would dare do what I had just done. Like she was completely, like, foreign to the concept of meanness.

Which made me think.

Was I mean? As usual, whenever I started to have self-doubts, I ask my friends their opinions. "Hey. Am I, like, a mean person?"

Allie and Lindsey looked up from their lunch and immediately started reassuring me that "No, of course not" and "You're only putting people in their rightful place". I relaxed a bit, but I was distracted for the rest of the day, thinking about Kate and the idea that I was mean.

The next day, I was sitting in class. And who should show up and happen to sit in the seat _right behind_ _me _but Kate Tan Wei Ying?

I swear I could, like, feel her eyes on the back of my neck the entire period. I could practically hear her sharpening a knife and preparing to slit my throat or something. This continued all morning long, and Kate seemed to have stalked my entire class schedule. It was, like, a horror movie or something, where the zombie pops out when you least expect it. She even used the _bathroom_ the same time as me, she was that scary.

Finally, it was lunchtime, and my friends and I moved towards our normal table by the window, and guess who was sitting in my spot _again_? That's right. Kate.

So at this point, I was confused and kind of freaked. I had never had a problem with any of the other people at this school; they respectfully avoided me, and I respectfully ignored them. I had to set things straight.

"You. Out of my seat," I demanded, just like the day before.

Kate looked up from her salad and gave me this look, like _I_ was the one who wanted _her_ seat, her eyes were narrowed, the whole bit. "No," she replied coolly, and took another bite.

The cafeteria gasps, a repeat of yesterday, and I sigh. "Do you _want_ to die?" Kate ignored me, so I prepared for my normal kick-out-of-the-seat regimen. "Alright, you're asking for it..."

But inches before my foot connected, Kate was out of the seat, had grabbed my leg, and flipped me onto the ground on my stomach. The silence was so big you could hear a pin drop.

Oh, no. There's no _way_ this new girl was going to, like, take me down in front of the entire school. I had to show her who was in charge.

I squirmed out of her grasp and kneed her in the chest, and she stumbled backwards. The cafeteria swarmed around us yelling, "Fight! Fight! Fight!"

Kate and I stood in face-off, daring each other to make a move. Blood was pounding in my ears because I'd never had an actual, like, fight before. Kate and I leaped at each other, fists were flying, nails were scratching, the whole dang shebang. The assistant principals eventually came in and pulled us away from each other, but we were still trying to get at each other's throats.

Instead of sitting us down in the principal's office like I'd expected, the assistant principals locked us in a classroom and told us to "settle our differences like grown adults".

As soon as they were gone, Kate and I turned on each other, and I hissed, "Why do you want to do this?"

Kate glared, answering, "I don't."

"Then why are you fighting?!"

Kate, panting, replied, "I'm not."

"Wait a minute. What?" I didn't get this girl.

"It's self-defense."

"Self-de..."

"I don't start quarrels. But that doesn't mean I won't end them."

"Okay, hold up. First of all, who says 'quarrels' anymore? Second, you totally started this fight." By now, Kate and I had put our fists down to our sides.

"I didn't! _You_ were about to kick _me_. I don't like violence. I'm a pacifist, and I'm a vegan. I value life. But you, for some reason, can't say the same!"

I paused for a beat. It all clicked together. Her lunch from yesterday, the fact that she really had only been blocking me and deflecting me and rolling away from me in the fight the entire time...

We just eyed each other in silence for a while, and she stepped forward with her hand out and said, "I think we got off on the wrong foot. I'm Kate Tan Wei Ying. I'm a new student here at St. Theresa Coudere Academy. My family and I just moved here from Singapore."

I looked at her outstretched hand. Did this girl really want to make peace? Pacifistic vegan here, hello? Part of me wanted to instinctively reject it, but another part of me didn't want to be the "mean girl" anymore.

I shook her hand and muttered begrudgingly, "I'm Star Harrington." I even went so far as to add, "Pleasure to meet you."

And you know what? Kate was actually really cool. Unlike Allie and Lindsey, she didn't hesitate to, like, criticize me or tell me stuff I was doing wrong. And whenever she was around, she always made me feel like a bully who stole people's lunch money, she was such a goody-goody. So I cleaned up my act, stopped terrorizing the student population, junk like that.

After a few weeks or so, Kate got to be a really good friend of mine. Five years later, we were walking on our way to the movies, and Kate noticed this, like, black van tailing us for about three blocks.

Now, everyone always says that white unmarked vans equal drug-dealers or kidnappers or bank robbers. But _black_ unmarked vans? I know now that those are even worse.

Kate and I started picking up our pace. The van sped up. We started a light trot. The van sped up. Eventually, we were full-out sprinting, and the van had pulled up alongside us. We darted sideways into an alleyway and came out on another street, and waiting for us was _another black unmarked van_.

At this point, Kate was whimpering and I was thinking, _This is bad. This is bad. This is really, really bad._ To emphasize just how bad the situation was, out of the two black unmarked vans jumped four punks with hypodermic syringes. They rushed us and we tried to fight them off, but come on. We were a couple of normal, fourteen-year-old girls all alone, outnumbered by a bunch of older, grown men with needles. We lost, okay? We weren't, like, _Maximum Ride_ or anything.

Kate and I woke up who knows how many hours/days later in a laboratory. Kate was strapped to a laboratory table across from me, and as our eyes met, I knew we were in deep doo-doo. We were lucky, in a way, because it didn't seem like we'd been beat up or... worse.

But we were tied to lab tables in an unknown location. So there was that.

A few minutes after we came to, these, like, scientists came in and started setting up monitors and filling up shots and stuff. I'm like, "Hello? Mind telling us who you are, and, oh, I don't know, WHAT THE BANANAS WE'RE DOING HERE?!"

And you know what they did? They gave me one glance and went along with their business. I kept trying to get their attention, but they kept ignoring me. Then they started experimenting with us, and...

_End of Flashback_

"You know what? I'm not going to get into the details, because you all know what happened. You've been through it, too. So basically, Kate got enough strength to lift, literally, like, a ton (A.N. That's about 907 kilograms if you're not an American.). I got out of the situation with speeds that can break the freaking _sound barrier_. Not that I'm bragging or anything," I added, examining my nails.

Fang urged me on, "Then what happened?"

I sighed and continued, "So eventually we were released into the wild, as it were, and of course the whole world seemed to be happy we were back. My dad had been especially freaked out, so when I came back, he almost hired bodyguards for me, which would have totally destroyed my social life. Kate and I had to hide our abilities from everyone else, play it off like nothing had happened. After that whole ordeal, I realized the only person I felt could really understand me was Kate. She'd been through what I'd been through."

Kate said, "One day, about six months after we were 'enhanced', I overheard a girl in the hallway talking about your blog, Fang. I mentioned it to Star and we looked it up on a library computer during our free period. We saw your blog post calling for mutants to join your group."

"And the rest is history," I finished.

Dylan and Fang sat back in their seats. Dylan whistled. "Wow. That's quite a story."

Fang looked out the window. "Hey. We're here. Welcome to Miami."

Kate POV

Since none of us had suitcases to get from baggage claim or anything, we left the airport as soon as we arrived.

"Alright," Star said, staring longingly at the palm trees, the bright sun, and the feel of a beach nearby. "What's the plan? Because if there isn't one, I vote we spend the rest of the day catching some sun and playing beach volleyball." I could tell she was actually somewhat serious.

Dylan and Fang started talking at once. They stopped and stared at each other, and you could tell that even though these guys had fought together in Paris, things were still tense with the whole "who owns Max" situation. (Again, I hope no one tells Max about this. She would get really mad the boys still thought of her as a trophy bird-girl or something.)

Fang concedes, "You first."

"I was just going to suggest we find better clothes and equipment for fighting and such. Because right now," Dylan said, glancing at Star's mini-skirt and my flowy tunic, "I doubt we'd be able to fight very well."

Fang interjected, "Well, I was going to suggest we find the Doomsday Group's location and set up a stakeout to try to get a feel for what we're up against."

"No, I really think we should get some combat gear first."

"Actually, the stakeout is more important."

"Gear."

"Stakeout."

"_Gear_!"

"_Stakeout_!"

Okay, clearly, this argument was not about combat gear or stakeouts. The testosterone was filling the air like the gas from a certain little boy I know who likes to... erm... _break wind_. I walked between the two hormonal teenage guys and said soothingly, "I think that both of those are great ideas. How about Star and I go find us all some new combat gear while you two track down the DGers? We can meet up, change into our new clothes, and find a good stakeout spot. How does that sound?" After a pause, Dylan and Fang nodded, their eyes still locked on each other, daring each other to break the stare. "Alright, I'll leave you two to it."

About three hours later, Star and I meet up with Fang and Dylan at an intersection with a corner McDonald's a few blocks down from where Fang and Dylan said they saw some suspicious activity. Star and I wait inside McDonald's for the boys to come out of the restroom with their new stuff on. I cringed at the sound of deep fryers, the smell of burger patties sizzling on grills, and people all around me eating meat.

I was practically suffocating in there. This was why I usually chose to sit outside when I had to eat at places like this. All of those dead cows... Oh. My. Gosh.

I couldn't get out of there fast enough. As soon as the boys left the restroom, I was almost sprinting down the street towards our stakeout point. Star was right behind me.

This was where we were perched like ninjas behind some dumpsters in a dark backstreet, listening and watching for anything whatsoever. Suddenly, a small chant started creeping up to us. "The One Light shall set you free." It started quiet, but grew louder and louder, as if something were approaching us. "The One Light shall set you free." I anxiously exchanged glances with the others, and I noticed that Dylan looked the most agitated and was mouthing something. "Per-pon" or something? Was that a name, maybe? I never was good at reading lips.

Out of nowhere, the alleyway was flooded with bright, unnatural light. "The One Light shall set you free." They were coming from above us, left and right, and even echoing up from the sewers under the grate beneath our feet.

We were trapped.

A.N. Yes, I know, this was a really long FILLER CHAPTER with a REALLY LONG BACKSTORY that added almost NOTHING to the actual PLOT in this story. But I wanted to update this story without doing that thing where the update is just an author's note with no chapter.

I hate those.

So yeah. That's my take on how Kate and Star met. Now they're mutant - I'm sorry, _enhanced_ - frenemies/best friends. And our Offense Team is in Miami, Florida. Will they be able to defeat the approaching DGers? Will Fang and Dylan resolve their differences? Will Dylan share Nudge's secret about who the One Light really is? _Will they get out of this alive?_

You'll have to wait until the next chapter. And I'll have to wait until I finish this entire freaking story before I read Nevermore! I have the book sitting up on my desk right now. Max is eyeing me with her giant grey-toned feathery wings. The spiky font of the broken-up word NEVERMORE shines in the light of my desk lamp. "THE FINAL MAXIMUM RIDE ADVENTURE" swims in the foreground of my vision in 3D. The crashing foamy ocean waves are actually audible to me. And that sticker. Oh my goodness, that silver, embellished sticker that reads in all caps "Maximum Ride R.I.P".

**This book is **_**literally**_** e.**

**I will go insane unless I get some reviews. So review! :D (Flames welcome.)**


	22. Miami

A.N. Thank you Fiona Siona and demigodflock for reviewing! I have gotten my little brother to hide Nevermore in an unknown location, and I think he lost it, so not even he knows where it is, so now... I-I'm in w-w-withdrawal... SOB! :(

Here's Chapter 22!

_Out of nowhere, the alleyway was flooded with bright, unnatural light. "The One Light shall set you free." They were coming from above us, left and right, and even echoing up from the sewers under the grate beneath our feet._

_We were trapped._

**Chapter 22: Miami**

Fang POV

Growing up in dog crates can really make a guy claustrophobic. Let alone when you're surrounded by an army of deranged Doomsday zombies.

"Dylan," I hissed, trying to think of a way out of this mess. "Why didn't you see them coming?!"

He scowled and grumbled back at me, "I'm not exactly a 24/7 psychic, Fang. And I think they have some sort of cloaking device."

Cloaking device. Please. I was starting to think he was making up that whole "better-than-perfect vision" stuff to impress Max.

Star, crouched between us behind the dumpsters, pinched us both and shushed us. "Will you two knock it off and pay attention? Look."

Kate, her voice quiet in the roar of the chanting DGers, said, "They're not attacking us. They don't even see us."

"Well," gloated Dylan. "Seems like the stealth gear was a good idea after all, wasn't it Fangy?" I wanted to punch his lights out, but Star and Kate were peeking over the top of the dumpster to get a better view of the action. Dylan and I joined them.

Scores of teenagers and young adults were marching down the alley in threes. They all had that nostalgic expression on their faces and goofy grins galore. "The One Light shall set you free. The One Light shall set you free," they mindlessly repeated over and over. This was seriously giving me the willies.

"Where are they going?" Star wondered aloud.

I squinted up and down the alley, the darkness interfering with my raptor vision. "I say we blend in with them and follow them to wherever they're going. Come on."

We slowly inched our way out from behind the dumpster. Dylan stepped on a can, sending a rattling echo in the gloom. The DGers didn't seem to notice, though. I rolled my eyes and muttered, "Klutz." Dylan grunted and mumbled something under his breath, and it probably wasn't nice. _Well, I'm sorry. It's not your fault you're less than a year old and can't walk properly. Poor baby._

Honestly, the bird-boy needs to man up and hide his feelings more. But then again, look where that got me. Max almost hates me and the whole world think's I'm emo. Not cool.

It was too easy slipping into the crowd. It also helps if your special skill is turning virtually invisible. I joined in the monotone chanting, "The One Light shall set you free." Yada yada yada.

The herd of young people left the alley and went down another street for a couple more blocks. I tried to angle my view so I could see who was leading the charge, but there were just too many smiling heads in the way. I decided to just go with the flow.

We eventually came upon this older styled, skyscraper-like building, the Freedom Tower. (Really, what is it with these guys and skyscrapers?) I heard a call to halt from the front of the procession, and we all stopped as one giant herd of wackos. Large screens were everywhere, but all that was showing was black. Odd.

Now that the chanting was over, I was able to hear what the leader at the front was saying. "Welcome, devoted followers of the One Light." Instantly, I knew this voice. It was Beth, the same Beth from Paris. Her voice was so... lilting... and calming... and made everything better... Snap out of it, Fang! I struggled to stay sane and awake as she went on.

"We are gathered here to execute the next stage in the vision of the One Light. Here in Miami, a land of many flawed human souls, a wave of enlightenment shall overtake the city. Together, we will uphold the supreme wishes of the One Light in our effort to make the world a better place."

On cue, the crowd of delusional idiots crooned, "The One Light shall set you free."

Oh, please, spare me this baloney.

"But," Beth interjected, "we cannot proceed with the One Light's vision in the presence of certain obstacles and opponents in our path. Our enemies wish to keep the world as it is, to hold back our progress." Those screens I saw a moment ago were now showing images.

Max. Me. Ratchet. Iggy. Nudge. Gazzy. All of the members of the Cause, all of the good guys, they were all broadcast on these screens, labeled "enemies". I couldn't help but notice Angel wasn't pictured.

"Our enemies call themselves, 'the Cause'." What?! How did they find that out? "It is imperative, for the greater good, that the Doomsday Group find and destroy these obstacles to our plan to purify the planet. Go, and find them. Now!"

The brainwashed zombies surrounding us immediately started looking around. "Hey! Here's one of them!" Darn.

"Um, the One Light shall set you free?" I tried in a last-ditch effort to throw them off my case. It didn't work. The zombies started to crowd me in, prodding me and poking me with their slow zombie fingers. It was a claustrophobic kid's worst nightmare. "Alright then. Let the games begin." I dropped into my combat stance and kicked, hacked, punched, and shoved my way into the fray, searching for my teammates.

Star whizzed past me, a pipe in her hands striking the guts of a dozen DGers a second. It was hard for anyone to land a punch on her, so I figured she was fine at the moment. I spotted Kate perched on top of a car. She elbowed one zombie in the face and he went flying backwards from the sheer force. Kate looked a bit overwhelmed for a second, and I almost moved in to help her out, but she slid behind the back of the car and lifted up the entire vehicle with her bare hands, throwing it into the mob with barely a grunt. No help needed.

That left everyone's favorite Beiber birdboy, Dill Pickle. He was backed up against the Freedom Tower, and while he was holding them off, he wasn't making any progress. So I stepped in.

Okay, I'll admit. Dylan has good technique. After all, he did learn from _the _Maximum Ride herself. But the kid has almost no experience. Me? I had experience. Especially with giant hordes of whatever freak show was featured in any given week. Whitecoats. Erasers. Flyboys. M-Geeks. Evil robots. You name it.

This wasn't as much of a challenge, considering we were locked in combat with brainwashed teenagers with no training. I don't know why Dylan was struggling with this. After five minutes, I had cleared a fifteen foot radius around Dylan and I. Meanwhile, Star had somehow gotten her hands on some cables and was weaving through the crowds at high speeds, eventually tying a huge chunk of them together. Kate was a human bulldozer, taking down not one, but _two_ DGers with every punch.

After about ten minutes of this mess, Beth's voice finally rang out over the chaos. "Doomsday Group, fall back!" I finally saw her up on a makeshift stage in front of the Freedom Tower. Her eyes met mine, and she growled into her megaphone, "This battle will continue at another time." I gave her a little wave, and she scowled, following the rest of the DGers and disappearing down another street.

Star skidded to a stop, her sneakers making loud screeches in the quiet night. "Well. We sure showed them!"

Kate put down the stop sign she had just ripped out of the ground with one hand. "I believe we did," she nodded modestly.

I cracked my neck. "We all good? Anyone hurt?" I glanced at my watch. Two in the morning. Time flies when you're kicking butt.

Dylan winced, leaning against the side of the Freedom Tower. "I am." He pulled back his sleeve and showed these deep gouges in his shoulder. Blood was streaming down his arm. I shivered, since I knew - from _experience_ - how much injuries like that could hurt.

But I simply shrugged. "Well, slap some magic spit on it and get a move on. We need to find a safe place to crash for the night so we can be ready for anything the Doomsday Group has to throw at us tomorrow." I avoided Dylan's glower as he coughed up some saliva into his palm and smothered his wounds with it, holding the skin together as it healed. Seriously, that's just gross. "Okay, I'm thinking we can maybe find an overhang by some beach or something and pitch camp there and-"

"_Or_," Star interrupted, rolling her eyes, "we could check into a nice, clean hotel room on the _good_ side of town that actually has room service so we can, like, _eat_?"

Whoa, hold up. "I don't know. Hotel rooms haven't really been working out for us in the past." You know, usually the bad guys corner us and we have to make an emergency exit through the window - which wouldn't work very well since half of the Offense team can't fly - or an explosions blows everything to smithereens... There's just nothing appealing about hotel rooms when you're a fugitive trying to help save the world.

"Think about it, Fang," Kate said hesitantly. "Is it more likely for us to get jumped, mobbed, or killed in our sleep when we're sleeping outside for all to see, or in a locked hotel room inside a guarded building?" You'd be surprised.

"She's right, Fang," Star agreed, her hands on her hips and her overall expression sending me stubborn vibes.

"Yeah, Fang," Dylan gloated. Once again, I was _this_ _close_ to wiping that smirk off his perfect face. With my foot.

I was outnumbered three to one. I sighed and conceded, "Alright, we'll sleep in style tonight."

Star pumped her fists in the air. "Yes! I know just the place, too! My family and I always stay there whenever we come to Miami. At least, we used to." Star's grin faded for a moment, and I remembered that she and Kate did have families outside of the Cause, and they hadn't contacted them in a really long time.

I thought about this, about all that our three teams were sacrificing for the mission, as I lay spread-eagled on my enormous bed in the five-star hotel suite I was forced to share with Dylan (kill me now).

Across the room, the blonde-haired kid was sitting on top of his bed, watching the news.

"This is Natalie Smith, and we are at the reported site of yet another gathering of the Doomsday Group in Miami, Florida. Ever since the ordeals in Paris and Tokyo this past week, authorities all over the world have been trying to pinpoint the headquarters of the Doomsday Group, but there are currently no leads. Local Police Chief Alex Wess has explained that so far, the attacks of the Doomsday Group seem to be random and are intended to destroy and even kill. However, at the scene of every gathering of the Doomsday Group, there seems to be a small fighting force of at least a few individuals who have fought back and even defeated the forces of the group. It is not confirmed who the unknown fighters are, but some are saying that it is the Flock and Fang's Gang, the rumored enhanced humans at large with unique abilities. It is also unknown who the supposed cult leader of the Doomsday Group, the "One Light", is, or his location. International authorities assure us, though, that every effort to solve these mysteries is being made. This is Natalie Smith. Back to you, Carson."

Dylan turned off the television and rubbed his temples. I knew the guy was always stressing himself out over Max, but this was unnecessary. "What's eating you?" I asked.

He shook his head and sighed. "I can't say."

"You can't or you won't?" I pressed.

"Won't."

"Why not?"

"Because... because Nudge didn't say anything."

"Nudge? What does Nudge have to do with it?"

"Nudge has everything to do with it."

"What is 'it'?"

"Just, forget it."

"Ah, no. Something's bugging you, and it's distracting. What's up?"

"It's just that... The One Light..."

"Spit it out already!"

"Never mind!"

"Spill it!"

"No!" By now we were in each other's face. This was going nowhere. Dylan and I just glared at each other, got into our respective beds, and slept like rocks until morning.

_What were Dylan and Nudge hiding?_

A.N. So there's some action for all of you to make up for all of the talking and the thinking and stuff. Actually, **here's something to vote on for this story**:

Would you prefer more...

1) Unexpected twists

2) Action/fighting

3) Humor

4) Dialogue

5) Plot

6) Answers to Major Questions/Loopholes

7) Other (please specify) _

R&R, please and thank you!

ICBN


	23. Madison

A.N. Wow. Summer just flew by, and I'm back in school again. Grrr... Well, I still haven't read _Nevermore_, so that's just more motivation to work on this story. ;)

_"It's not about who can fight, Starfish. It's about who should be going face-to-face with the enemy, and who should be saving the innocents. If anything, the best fighters are on Defense, because that's what we're going to do: fight for the people who can't."_

**Defense, Chapter 23: Madison**

Max POV

The problem with being the part world's best chance for survival the next few months is not knowing where to start. With over seven billion people all over the planet, three teenagers had a lot of ground to cover. So we decided to prepare ourselves, because there was going to be a lot of traveling in the near future for the Defense team.

Maya, Holden and I walked into the nearest Wal-Mart while the rest of the Cause split off in different directions to do their duties. Wal-Mart is, without a doubt, the go-to place for any mutant wishing to stock up on rope, flashlights, water bottles, blankets, new backpacks, combat boots, cargo pants, T-shirts, sturdy jackets, binoculars, nonperishable food, and most importantly, first aid supplies.

The guy at the cash register didn't even bat an eye when he saw three suspicious-looking, frumpy kids dumping a freaking enormous set of camping supplies on the conveyor belt. I'm sure he'd seen weirder sight before. Maya and Holden nearly had an aneurysm when he told us the price, but fortunately, I had the everlasting, uncannily convenient _Max card_. We still didn't know how we got it, but all I could say was that thing was _darn handy_.

The three of us strolled out of the Wal-Mart two hours later with ginormous packs on our backs, ready to save the world. Once again, the question was: Where do we start?

It was Holden who thought of tuning in to the national public radio to see what was going on around the world, specifically America. We each had these awesome little devices that sat inside our backpacks with tiny earphones strapped to our ears. Technology these days kicked butt.

We caught the middle of a broadcast. "... reported in Madison, Wisconsin. The unexplained and unpredictable explosions have been going on for four days now, and while authorities are making every effort to detect the pattern and evacuate citizens, progress is hard to come by..." We glanced at each other uneasily. Who knew that so much could happen while you were under the radar for a week?

"Alright, let's move out," I said and started to shake out my wings to prepare for takeoff. But I noticed Maya and Holden weren't moving. "Come on, guys, we don't have any time to lose!"

Maya crossed her arms and gave me _my_ patented glare. "Sorry, Max, but if we're going to work as a team, I for one am not taking orders from you."

Holden copied Maya's defiant stance and muttered, "Ditto."

I groaned. "Seriously, guys, people are dying right now. Do you really want to argue about this?"

Maya came forward until she was a foot away from me. "Better to get this over with now. You may have been the Flock's leader in the past, but those were the old days. Now, we're equals."

"Equals?" I huffed. "The only thing equal about us is the fact that _you_ were cloned from _my_ DNA. I'm the one and only Max. The best Max. Besides, what experience do you have leading anything? You're-"

"Max," Holden piped up. "We're not saying that Maya should be the leader. We're saying that no one should be the leader."

"Oh, right! That'll work out _so well_! With no one guiding this little group, we're sure to do our duty. Good thinking, guys!" I snorted, rolling my eyes.

**Maximum, think rationally for a second and consider what they are saying.**

_Well, well, well. Look who's popped up again._

**Max, you are hearing what they are saying, but you are not listening. Until you listen, you will be unable to understand.**

_I've almost started to miss those fortune-cookie-worthy words of advice, Voice. Let me guess. Today's horoscope says that I will meet a mysterious stranger who will guide me to embark on a quest of enlightenment that will test me and my worst weakness?_

**This is no laughing matter, Max. You must deal with the issues of your team now, and quickly. Lives are at stake.**

_So what? I'm just supposed to give in to their little perfect idea of a leaderless team?_

**For now, you must treat them as a democracy. Take a vote. Ask them for their opinions. You may be surprised at what they have to offer, if you will listen.**

_Whose side are you on, anyways? I thought you wanted me to be the best leader I could be._

**I am a friend, Maximum. I thought you always knew that.**

And the Voice didn't say anything more, frustrating me to no end, as per usual. I sighed. "Fine. Who wants to go to Wisconsin to rescue the poor souls who are being blown to bits as we speak?" Naturally, all three of us raised our hands, and I shrugged, "That's it, then. Let's go." I was a few yards in to my running start when...

"Uh, Max?" What now?! I spun around, irritated. Holden rubbed his shoulder and uttered sheepishly, "I can't fly."

Holden can't fly. Of course. "I guess," I mumbled, "Maya and I can take turns carrying you."

I took to the skies with Holden in my arms. I forgot one minor detail though: birdkids were extremely light, what with our hollow bones and feathers and air sacs and large lungs and all. Non-birdkids, on the other hand? Pretty heavy, and awkward to carry. This was going to be a long flight.

We touched down in Madison, Wisconsin about twelve hours later, and it was dark. Maya set Holden down on the ground, and we cautiously picked our way through the rubble. We were in the middle of a zone already hit, and it was quiet. Too quiet. I considered for the first time that we may be dealing with dead bodies as part of the job description. _Suck it up, Maximum. This isn't the first time you've experienced corpses, unfortunately._

One corpse I hadn't ever been able to find was Ang- NO! I pinched the bridge of my nose and shook those thoughts out of my head.

"You okay, Max?" Maya asked me, and was that a drop of concern I could detect in her voice?

I rolled my shoulders, and nodded, "Yeah, I'm fine. Let's see if we can find anyone in these houses."

As it turned out, most of these houses had been evacuated before the explosions hit. A lot of them were just empty piles of shattered glass, charred wood, and broken mortar.

I say "most" and "a lot" because there were unfortunate exceptions. I don't really want to go into the details, but let's just say that the evacuations were not perfectly thorough, and the wreckage wasn't always empty. I would be haunted for life. Oh wait, I already was.

We finished our sweep of the area. If there were any survivors, they had thankfully left the area. We returned to the skies and moved to another area, wordless save for a comment here and there, a question, a musing, or a cough. I mean, what was there to say? It was hard to stay detached from the dire situation when you could imagine the neighborhoods and city streets in their prime, with kids playing soccer in the streets and teens learning how to parallel park on the curbs, while fathers cooked hot dogs on their grills and mothers fed their babies in kitchens... It was a tough job, to say the least.

Our efforts were fruitless, so _we_ made a _collective_ decision to head to an area unaffected by the explosions and try to get them to leave the city. Cops and the National Guard were having trouble getting everywhere at once, and the explosions blocked off some streets completely. Helicopters swarmed the skies - making it very hard for a birdkid to navigate the shared airspace - but there were still people at risk.

We decided randomly on a street called Summit Avenue. The police clearly hadn't gotten to this street, but at all of the exit streets, explosions had blown too much debris in the way for the lined up cars to escape. We could see people nervously pacing the pavement up and down the line of traffic, and for good reason, because for all they knew, the explosions could hit this street next. That was the thing: entire neighborhoods were being randomly targeted, so there was no way to know for sure whether your house would still be standing the next day. The whole situation was just a big mess. A mess that the Defense team had to handle.

Holden, Maya and I got into a quick huddle and made a fast plan of action. We had to get these people out of the area at all costs, and soon. Maya dug in her pack for her megaphone and climbed on top of a van in the middle of the frozen traffic. "Excuse me! Everyone, excuse me!" The fearful crowd didn't notice her at first. I saw Maya hike up the dial on the megaphone and yelled at the top of her lungs, her voice bouncing repeatedly off the asphalt, "People of Summit Avenue, listen up!" The crowd hushed and quieted down, moving in closer to see what this strange girl on the van had to say.

Maya started explaining the situation, calming the people down, answering questions as best she could. Most of them went like this:

Crowd: "Why aren't we being evacuated by real police?"

Maya: "The police are doing their best to reach everyone in the city. We're here because they aren't. Next?"

Crowd: "What are a few kids going to do? Do you have bulldozers to clear the way out?"

Maya: "Um, no. No bulldozers. But we'll do our best to clear some of the wreckage away for everyone to file out. We're also going to fly you out one at a time as fast as we can."

Crowd: "Fly us out? Do you have choppers? Where are the choppers?"

Maya: "No, no choppers." Maya unfurled her wings, prompting a loud gasp from the crowd. "We're enhanced humans. We can-"

Crowd: "Mutants! You're expecting us to let you mutants touch us?! We don't want to catch your mutant germs! I don't want my kids anywhere near you! Stay away from us! Get away from Summit Avenue!"

Maya: "Please, everyone, we don't have 'mutant germs'. We don't have anything contagious, for that matter, and..."

It went on and on like that. Yet another thing that makes Maya and me different: I had way less patience. I would have been like, "You wimpy eggshells don't want our capable and willing help? Fine! Enjoy getting combusted! So long, suckers!"

Good thing for you humans on Summit Avenue, Maya was behind the microphone that day, not me.

Meanwhile, Holden and I slipped through the crowds, running for the first house at the far end of the street. These people actually had the gall to lock their doors, even during a crisis like this. If Iggy were here, he'd want to show off his mad blind-birdkid-lock-picking skills, or better yet, would find a way to predict the explosions and deactivate them, end of story.

But Iggy wasn't here, and I was Maximum Ride, so I kicked doors down. Like a _boss_. Holden and I made a sweep of the house, checking in closets and under beds, in pantries and in the attic, searching to see if anyone was left behind. There wasn't, so we moved on to the next house.

It was the wee hours of the morning, the work was tiring, and we hadn't gotten a good night's rest in who knows how long. It was difficult to resist the tempting vacant beds in every single home we inspected, searching for stragglers.

I checked my new Wal-Mart watch for the time. I remember it exactly. It was 5:13 am on a Wednesday morning. Maya was working with the crowd to try to shift rubble and clear a path wide enough for cars to pass through. There was one house left, and I lifted my foot to bash the door in when the explosions began.

Darn it all.

Now, as you can expect, we mutant birdkids have no small amount of post-traumatic stress disorder, and I was still mentally, emotionally and physically raw from the whole Paris fiasco. So when I saw those first bursts of yellow and black fiery smoke erupting from the home four doors down across the street, my heart stopped painfully and my blood went ice cold. After that initial bang, the hordes of people went haywire; people were shoving violently in a free-for-all, everyone for himself (or herself) swarm for the end of the street. More explosions quickly followed, combined with the fearful screams and the general uproar of the freaked out crowd.

Holden grabbed my ear and pulled it down hard to his mouth. He yelled over the pandemonium, "Max! You start flying people out of the crash zone while I check this last house!"

I yelled back, "You sure?" He was a pretty small dude, and while he could rapidly heal himself within reason, he wasn't exactly immortal.

"Yes! Now go! We don't have time!"

I broke away from that last house and flew over the storming crowd to Maya, who was struggling to lift a couple of ten-year-olds out of the street. I wished we had Kate to move the rubble with her super strength, but wishes don't save lives. "Maya! I have an idea!" I called out. "You lift people up and down, and I'll dart back and forth to carry them out of the crash zone." She nodded, and I grabbed the kids from her arms and poured on my warp drive for a half a second. Twenty miles seemed decent. I hurriedly placed the kids - somewhat carefully - to the ground, and did an Olympic swimmer-style flip in the air, where Maya was already holding out an elderly woman. I snatched her, flipped, zoomed, placed, flipped, zoomed, snatched, and so on.

Maya and I had a pretty good system going. Until the crowds started swarming Maya, demanding that they or their children be taken up next. Maya was trying to order them into a line, but to no avail. The once-suspicious crowd had now morphed into a full-on mob. I didn't see Holden anywhere.

I started skipping Maya and randomly grabbing people from the crowd to 'evacuate' them. I tried to focus on the elderly and the young children. But there were just too many of them. Deep down, I knew that this wasn't going to work. But I stubbornly kept trying, because each person that I got out of there alive was one less person dead.

Then the explosions started hitting the streets as well. Waves of hopelessness started drowning me. Maya was wiping her eyes, but later she would swear it was just the dust in the air getting in her eyes. There was no way. The wails of people were breathtaking as the explosions got nearer and nearer. I tried to speed up my warp drive, my heart working double-time and my air sacs pumping oxygen so fast I got more than a little lightheaded. But there was no way we'd save all of these people in time.

I came back from another drop off, but when I stuck my hands out to scoop up another person, a weird thing happened: there was no one left. Nobody. No _bodies_. Everyone had just... vanished.

I skidded on the ground, falling to my hands and feet, adrenaline still pounding painfully and energetically in my veins. My breath was coming out loud and fast. I called out, "Maya? Holden?" I spotted Maya on the ground a few yards over and crawled over to her. "Maya, what happened?! Where are the people?!"

She groaned, turned away from me onto her side, and... err... lost her cookies. When she was done, she muttered, "Th-th-they're s-s-s-safe."

I didn't ask how then, because we had another problem on our hands. "Well, come on. We have to find Holden and blow this joint before the explosions blow _us_ up."

That's when the last home on the street went up in flames with a resounding _boom !_ Instantly, I felt a queasy feeling in the pit of my stomach. "Maya... have you seen Holden anywhere?"

Maya slowly sat up, her hands to her temples. "Unh, I thought you knew."

Oh, no. No no no no no... "HOLDEN?!" I sprang up from the road and sprinted to the flaming home. "Holden, you in there?" No answer, but this was the last place I saw him. I pulled my jacket over my nose and recklessly entered the doorway.

Fire was everywhere. I could feel the crumbling of the foundation of the house beneath my feet. Wooden beams from the ceiling above were raining down on me, and I narrowly dodged being brained by a notably large chuck of plaster. I strained my raptor hearing over the roar and crackle of the destructive fire and reverberating explosions. Was that coughing I heard?

The fireplace. I picked my way rapidly through the rapidly deteriorating building, smacking off a spark every now and then from my shoulders. I obviously wasn't cut out to be a firefighter, you can be sure of that. "Holden?!"

A small voice just barely reached my ears from inside the fireplace. "Help me!" I got on my hands and knees, gasping from the smoke and using my oxygen reserves from my air sacs to keep me going. Inside the fireplace was Holden, but instead, the voice came from a small girl, no more than five years old. Holden was covering her, shielding her from the destruction, and... a large, sharp piece of wood was lodged through his back. I steeled myself, reached in, and pulled out Holden and the little girl. She had run out of tears and breath, and as I held her close and covered her in my jacket, all I could hear was faint coughing. Not good.

Holden was in worse shape. Though a ginormous gash on his forehead was healing up pretty well and a broken arm was straightening and mending itself, the huge wooden shard had gone all the way through his back, and he couldn't heal himself around it. He wasn't breathing or moving at all. Needless to say, I was pretty worried.

Okay, extremely worried.

Fortunately, Maya seemed to have recovered from whatever had happened with the rest of the people of Summit Avenue. She took the little girl, and I gingerly lifted Holden into my arms. We burst from that crumbling, flaming house and leaped straight into the skies. I made a beeline to the spot twenty miles out where I had been dropping off the people, and sure enough, the entire crowd was there. Several ambulances, thank goodness, were there, and the little girl was able to get sufficient medical attention. Holden, however, still needed assistance. Maya and I sat on either side of him, debating quietly whether we should turn him over to the medical professionals and let them surgically remove the splintering wooden rod, which may have taken hours, or if we should get it out now and let him heal himself the way his body knew how.

Holden did not seem very alive right then. His face was much paler than normal, his eyes were half-mast, and he didn't even twitch at all. Maya and I decided to do it fast while he still had a fighting chance. She held his shoulders upright, and I carefully but determinedly pulled the wooden stick out from his back. Almost instantly, his body did its wonderful mutant magic, and the hole through his chest sealed up before our very eyes. And sure enough, the boy's green eyes blinked, he sucked in a big chestful of air, and the color started returning to his skin.

I sat back, relieved. We sat in a silent triangle for a moment. "You know, Holden, you're probably the only being on earth that can survive something like that without any overpaid surgeons."

"One of the perks of being such a freak, huh?" he rasped, smiling slightly with a faint look of pain.

"So," I turned my focus on Maya now. Forget that ridiculous "democracy" concept, I was _Maximum Ride_, and I had a destiny to save the world. If I had to become the dictator of my own team to accomplish that, then so be it. "Looks like you have some explaining to do. What. The. Flock. Just. Happened. Tonight."

A.N. Liked it? Hated it? Suggestions or flames? They're all welcome! I'd love to hear from you!

ICBN


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